A question..

Ask yourself a question, and take a walk. As you walk, imagine yourself walking through your mind, looking for that answer. It doesn't have to be a perfect question, and you don't have to find the answer. Just take the time to explore yourself a little. 

My question: Who am I supposed to be in this world?

I often ask myself what my role is supposed to be in this world. I know everyone does. And everyone’s is different. Some people never discover theirs. Some do, but don’t realize it. I want to realize when I’ve discovered mine, if I ever do. But this question comes upon me plenty. And I wait for the answer, look for the answer, work at it, but I cannot find it.

I take a walk down my street and ask myself this as I go. But I know my first step, and that’s figuring out my abilities. If I can figure what I can do, and even what I can’t do, then that’ll only bring me closer to knowing what I wonder.
So I ask myself: What am I good at? What am I not good at? What do I like, dislike, love, hate, desire, repent? A gentle breeze floats by, and I breathe it in. Its almost like I’m inhaling my answer. I write down my first answer: I can write. This, I realize, is true. Plenty of people have told me how well I can write. I’ve made people cry with my words, I’ve made them laugh, I’ve made them think. I like that. I like it when people react to my writing, no matter the reaction. I write this under my likes. In addition, I scribble nature underneath my likes. The fresh air, the blue skies, trees, flowers, bushes. All this I love. Nature is a place of peace and happiness; I could live in it if I was allowed to.
As I walk through the maze of my mind, I discover I’m great at being happy, and horrible at being mad. It’s just not my thing. Who am I supposed to be? I ask again. Mentally, I cross out a million different job titles I do not want to do: lawyer, doctor, secretary, firefighter, police officer, politician, soldier. I admire all those people, except politicians, but I could never do their job. It’s not for me. I prefer the arts. You know, writing, drawing, music, building, cooking. There, that’s what I like. I write all those down, and add reading to the list.
My path curves, slightly, taking me around a bend. I realize I have not destination in mind, I’m not sure where I want to go. On my paper I write indecisive, which is a problem I have. I can’t make up my mind on anything. Which is alright, I presume, because it always keeps me on my toes.
I look up from my paper, and picture my mind. What I find, truly, is a maze. Twists and turns and millions of paths. Hundreds of them lead to dead ends, thousands lead to other paths, and a good handful lead to the end. As I pick a path to follow, I wonder of that’s my destination: the end of the maze. But where is the end going to take me? Will it change me? Make me someone I’m not? The maze, so full of questions, ideas, emotions, feelings. Will reaching the end cause me to lose all these? I guess it might. So I decide I never want to leave my maze. It’s too much fun.
This new path I’ve chosen brings me a new feeling; desire. What do I want? I instantly write down make others happy. Which is what I want. I like seeing smiles on other people’s faces. I like being the reason they wipe away their tears, the reason they take risks and do certain things, the reason they’re happy. My next desire? Love. Of course, I have plenty. But there’s just something missing. A different kind of love I’ve never experienced before. That’s what I want. But I’m willing to wait for it to come around. I know it’ll come when it’s ready.  Other desires? To feel welcomed. I know the feeling of being left out, rejected, nobody wanting to be my friend. And that feeling is terrible. So my desires also include people wanting to be around me, as well as making other people feel that way too. I don’t want others feeling that loneliness.
My path leads me to what I repent. That’s a long list. There are many things I hate. Hatred, fear, anger, sadness. I don’t like people who are flat out mean, I don’t like people who are flat out rude, I don’t like people who have no desire but to watch others suffer. Being made to something I don’t want to do. With this thought, I add stubborness to my list. I see it everywhere in my head. I can be awfully stubborn. From my perspective, I often see it as standing up for what I believe is right. And although my beliefs are wrong at times, it’s what I believe, and I will not back down from it.
As I reach the end of the street, I scan my list again. I notice there’s nothing on my list about what I’m not good at. I try thinking of something. I’m horrible at listening to people. I can’t really dance, unless someone choreographs a routine for me. I don’t know any other foreign languages. And I am the worst decision maker in history, although I’ve already said that. I determine I am happy with what I’ve discovered, although my question has still not been answered. I do not know my role in this world; perhaps I never will. But if I ever do find it, I want to be aware of it. I guess when the time comes, I will find my place. Until then, I’m just another one of the million puzzle pieces waiting to be fitted in. And I can be patient. I’m good at that.

Perspective

Millions of people wake up in the morning wondering how they are going to survive. Another million wake up with people tending their every need and want. See the difference? Now, guess who thanks God every morning for just being alive. Guess who is extremely thankful for what they have, no matter how little it is. That's right, the people with almost nothing.
It all depends how we look at it. It's called perspective. Everybody's perspective is different. Take a person who lives in a million dollar house. Their perspective of 'needs' is way different than someone who lives in a shack. Their needs include Uggs, a flat-screen tv, a pool, and a new smartphone. Now, the person who lives in a shack doesn't require these things. Their needs incude food, water, safety, and love. The bare necessities. Isn't that all we really need? In the end, love IS the most important thing. Real love, not the love you get from having money, from having $200 boots, or from having a Mercedes. No, the love others give you. And again, I do not mean love as in admiration from fans, jealousy from others "lower" than you, or the fake appreciation those higher than you give. I mean the love those close to you give you. The ones you can go to to tell anything. The ones who stand by your side, no matter what you're defending, wrong or right. The ones who know, at the end of the day, that you're a great person.
Perspective is a tough thing to work with. It determines how you see EVERYTHING around you. When a situation is bad, do you choose to look at the bad things, or do you choose to search for the good things? Although the latter might take a bit more effort, isn't it worth it in the end, seeing how things could be worse than they actually are? See, you're feeling better already.
I realize that sometimes its harder to find the positives than other times. But they're there. They always are, and they always will be. As well as the negatives. They will be there too. But I always try my hardest to completely ignore all THOSE.
Perspective. Take in that word. Savor it. Flourish it. Use it. And find the right perspective for you. Everyone has a different one. But one that always focuses on the negatives isn't a good one. Find one that brings you joy, that makes you happy. That brightens your day. That's a good perspective.