Recently the husband and I had a discussion regarding the question “What do you want out of life?” For the most part, attempting to answer has left me mostly blank. I suppose I don’t fully understand what the question is asking. I feel like the question unnecessarily complicates my existence. Should I have pages worth of philosophical musings about my existence? My science brain tries to cut through to the nucleus of every issue. We (human beings) are animals. What gives us the right to want anything more than to eat, breathe, and make babies? Our big brain is our biggest enemy, forcing such questions upon us, and demanding complicated answers.
Should I have a bullet list of items? Two kids? A house of X square footage in a scenic, exotic locale? A BMW? A million dollar income? For me, the answer is not so complicated. What do I want out of life? I want what I put into it. I want to be happy, feel loved and accomplished, and have a full belly. That’s really it. Is my answer supposed to be much longer? I want to create love, give love, and receive love. No more, no less.
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they tend to mean a lot to me
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