Maggie's Advice

"I think you have to take life for what it is, take as much as you can, and be happy with what you can get."

-- Maggie Rizer


Okay, so I'm guilty of choosing the easy way out. I'm paying dearly for it already. Can I blame myself for being so pampered all these years? Can I blame myself for being so accustomed to comfort? No and Yes. Comfort is both a gift and a curse. You get so much, it's a blessing. You get too much, it makes you dependent. And even if I had it easy, it's not like it was a walk in the park for me all these years. In a weird way, knowing I led my life with great facility, I unintentionally (and unconsciously, I must point out) made it harder for myself to feel happy with what I've come up with. Little achievements and conveniences don't mean a lot anymore. The paradigm shifts and I have to follow its direction.

I seriously thought of going to a fortune teller once, just to be reassured that a great future awaits me. The time I got to that quaint little seat he had beside the Department of Justice, he wasn't there. Thinking about it now, had I known exactly what I had to do with my life, half the fun of self-discovery shall have been taken away, the paths I were to take all mapped out on my palms. I would've absolutely regretted meeting up with him and have him lay out the destiny I would've wanted to hear about.

The thing is, I should stop pointing my finger at whoever or whatever to blame and just get on with the task at hand. It is so easy to declare, yet difficult to accomplish.

Who wants it easy anyway? Isn't the whole point of going through hardship, the fact that the end product leaves more to be savored? Seriously, if everyone had it easy, what would be the sense of fulfillment in doing anything?

A wisecrack would say, "it would be fulfilling if in the end, you indeed get what you worked hard for. If you don't get anything back, the entire process remains to be rebuked."

All the more reason to try and enjoy the hardwork, to enjoy the journey so to speak. You end up learning valuable life lessons somehow. Charge it to experience as my friends would sneer in delightful sarcasm. And maybe there's a hint of truth in the idea that trying to enjoy the hardship would be a prelude to masochism or the embryonic stages of acute persecution complex.

I feel it's all just perspective. Sure, the f*cking thing hurts like hell, but everything ends eventually. So might as well make the most out of the situation, try to get out of the comfort zone, be patient with everything and everyone, and have as much faith and hope that it'll all turn out fine.

If it doesn't, well, you'd figure you wouldn't have done it any other way.