‘The Good Life’ Is NOT The Four-Hour Work Week

If you ask someone under the age of thirty what their dreams are, how likely is it they will answer, ‘To invest 10,000 hours into the Mastery of my craft’? Not very. You are more likely to hear about some passive income business they wish to run via their phone, from a tropical beach. How likely is said young person to even have a craft, to even have something they are Mastering? Again, not very.

We live in a culture that values money, fame and instant results. Social media pours gasoline on this fire; creating false expectations for what our lives should be like, for what the day-to-day should feel like; only setting us up for disappointment.

Mental illness seems to be more prevalent than ever before, particularly amongst young people. There are a few theories attempting to answer why this is, but the one relevant to this essay is how our expectations do not align with reality, with the way the world actually works.

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The Trial of Titania Brown

“Greetings, folk of the Solar Kingdom. Today we gather for the trial of Misses Titania Brown, a mundane—or so she was sentenced to be!”

As Sola made his little speech, Titania shut her eyes tightly. She had never exactly been one for Divination or Metaphysical Magic, but she had to communicate with the Cosmos, beg the divine to just let her die.

“Yes, she was sentenced to a mundane life,” Sola continued, “as she was not deemed royal by the Cosmos, nor was she deemed noble. She is a giantess after all…”

At this, the Solar folk jeered:

“Disgusting giant!”

“A tainted folkian breed, indeed! Just filthy!”

“The giant race is too stupid to work with the Craft!”

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Falling In Love Triggered My Borderline Personality Disorder

Just over a year ago, sitting on a beach log with my mother, I told her, “Honestly, at this point, I don’t know if I even want a relationship.”

This shocked her. I had always been a hopeless romantic—someone in love with the idea of love—so it was strange for me to be spouting this new idea.

But, by the last quarter of 2021, this was where I was at: my heart had been broken enough times for my brain to question whether or not love was worth it. Everyone probably feels this way at some point in their life. Couple this normal human experience with the crippling fear of abandonment that my borderline personality disorder plagues me with, and I had a lot of incentive to never make myself vulnerable again.

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