So many of us are beautiful, fragile flowers.
Except, we are sitting in a glass vase in a windowsill.
We are already dead.
We suck up the water.
We struggle and lean into the sunshine as much as we can.
But we are dead, dead, dead.
We keep showing up to jobs we hate to make money to waste on things we think we need.
We are already dead inside, a metaphorical vase full of Walmart carnations, browning at the edges and shriveling in the stem.
We think we are alive.
The alarm goes off, so we get up.
The coffee is done, so we sip.
Our inbox fills, so we reply.
Bills come in, so we work.
Urges bubble up, so we mate…
And are we actually alive?
Are we just living? Or living?
Most of us are no better than the pretty but dead flowers.
Follow for daily philosophical meditations.
These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”
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