Do you ever feel as though you are not quite whole? As though there is some minuscule although vital part of you that is missing, or rather, existent, yet unused. A part that has never found fulfilment and nags at the corner of your brain, asking, “Is this all there is? Is there any thing more out in the world, out of your circumference of comfort? Are you getting all that you can out of this?” Whether it be your situation in life, your job, the friends you have, your relationship; have you ever heard that small, barely audible voice speak to you?
In times of great happiness it is more often that not drowned out by the volume of pleasure and in times of great sadness it is perhaps a contributor to that deafening voice that tells you all is defeated. But for myself, I find it is constantly there, never an administrator of emotion but rather an instigator of thought. The questions I am prompted to reflect upon can obviously never really be truly answered – who am I to know, in my present state, really, if things could actually be better – and so I am left pondering why this voice continues to exist at all. I myself am quite happy with my life, grateful beyond expression for the luckiness I possess; though, I fall prey to that voice more and more as repetition and meaningless actions begin to overtake my everyday life.
I wonder whether this voice accompanies others, regardless of situation in life, or whether I am simply too curious, too expectant of the gifts life can give. I deem myself content with my life and yet that small piece of me – stirring somewhere in the background at night, when I close my eyes, when silence falls – ceaselessly attempts to convince me that I am unsatisfied.
And so, I wonder, what on earth would it take to ever really satisfy whatever this instinct craves?
I’ll have to get back to you on that.