Car­olyn K. Cor­reia

We are di­verse be­ings and we all have dif­fer­ent goals but in reach­ing these goals we all im­pact each oth­er by the things we do. In our strug­gle to get to the fin­ish line do we of­ten for­get the sim­ple plea­sures and kind cour­te­sies that once made life a par­adise? Life is what you make it, or so the say­ing goes.... but is it re­al­ly? Life can be tu­mul­tuous. It has its ups and downs, be­gin­nings and end­ings. Some­times we wish we could choose what will be our end­ing. As we go through the mo­tions, chart­ing our own ter­ri­to­ry and try­ing to find our pur­pose in this world, it some­times cross­es our mind - is there some­thing more?

We are di­verse be­ings and we all have dif­fer­ent goals but in reach­ing these goals we all im­pact each oth­er by the things we do. Do we all have one com­mon pur­pose, or are we all mov­ing in dif­fer­ent di­rec­tions so as to de­ter­mine who would make it to the fin­ish line first? In a 'dog-eat-dog' world, what is the re­al pur­pose of each of our ex­is­tences? If I scratch your back will you re­al­ly scratch mine, or would you take off run­ning the first chance you get? Is the fight to the fin­ish line in­evitable or do we re­al­ly look out for each oth­er striv­ing to serve hu­man­i­ty? Or is it a give and take in an ef­fort to find a bal­ance...to make it big and then give some­thing back to so­ci­ety. We all won­der, does suc­cess change us, or do we re­main the same per­son un­der­neath it all? Many a time, we look around us and we see that peo­ple of­ten for­get the good that was be­stowed to them in their weak­est stages, the peo­ple and sit­u­a­tions that have helped to build and shape them in­to the per­sons they are to­day. And we ask our­selves: is mankind a self-serv­ing re­flec­tion of what our so­ci­ety has be­come?

We hear sto­ries of yes­ter­year from our el­ders and we mar­vel at how dif­fer­ent the world and peo­ple around us once were be­fore the ad­vent of mod­ern­iza­tion. When life was sim­ple and the most per­plex­ing ques­tion was whether we should take our bike to work that day or walk. And you would get slapped for not telling your neigh­bour good morn­ing. In a mat­ter of two blinks and a sneeze we've pro­gressed in­to a land where it is some­times im­pos­si­ble to ride or walk any­where with the pletho­ra of au­to­mo­biles on our busy mo­tor­ways, and good morn­ing is some­times a thing of the past even in a pub­lic place of busi­ness.

In our strug­gle to get to the fin­ish line do we of­ten for­get the sim­ple plea­sures and kind cour­te­sies that once made life a par­adise? Is this par­adise a thing of the past, and to be re­mem­bered on­ly as the 'good ole days?' Or more im­por­tant­ly, for those of us that re­mem­ber those days, what small things can we each do to 'bring back those ole time days and ways' when life was less com­pli­cat­ed and peace­ful? For some­times all it takes is one ac­tion, to be­gin a chain re­ac­tion of pos­i­tive change. As a prod­uct of the twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry we have to ask our­selves: "Am I a prod­uct of this life? Or is this life my pro­duc­tion?"

A pro­duc­tion to be­hold and 'play out' the hand that life has dealt us. Do we want to shape our des­tiny, or are we just go­ing to go through the mo­tions liv­ing one day to the next with­out a sec­ond thought for a deep­er mean­ing and lay blame when things don't go our way. At the end of the day, would you be hap­py with what you have pro­duced, the ef­fects that you have cre­at­ed and the lives you have touched? Or would you want an­oth­er chance to prove your worth, to right the wrongs - to find per­fec­tion? It is im­por­tant to rec­og­nize ear­ly on, what is the ob­ject of our af­fec­tion and not wake up one day with re­grets or 'what-ifs'. Now is the time to cease the day and take con­trol of the things that mat­ter most in your life. Not to­day or to­mor­row, but what will mat­ter when you are old and gray and your best years are be­hind you, as op­posed to ahead of you. Would you look back and smile with fond mem­o­ries of yes­ter­year, or would you look around your sur­round­ings search­ing for mean­ing?

In our quest for sati­ety, it is key to dis­cern that ma­te­r­i­al wealth is fleet­ing and on­ly to be en­joyed in this life no one can take it where they are go­ing, and it def­i­nite­ly won't get us in­to the pearly gates any faster, that is, if you be­lieve in the here­after. For those of us who do, there is on­ly one thing that re­al­ly mat­ters at the end of the day, that is: to have lived, shared, learnt and loved. Twen­ty years from now you will be more dis­ap­point­ed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow­lines. Sail away from the safe har­bour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Ex­plore. Dream. Dis­cov­er.–Mark Twain (1835-1910)

'Car­olyn K. Cor­reia

lyn­corr@gmail.com