August 8Indestructibly Content
In a word, the whole human race [is] content, always content, persistently content, indestructibly content, happy, thankful, proud, no matter what its religion is, nor whether its master be tiger or housecat. Am I stating facts? You know I am. Is the human race cheerful? You know it is. Considering what it can stand, and be happy, you do me too much honor when you think that I can place before it a system of plain cold facts that can take the cheerfulness out of it. Nothing can do that. Everything has been tried. Without success. I beg you not to be troubled.
Mark Twain—“What Is Man?” (1906)
What do you first think of when you hear the word content? Sounds okay, doesn't it?
Nothing wrong with being “indestructibly content,” right?
You can become content with anything—the hole in the ceiling you no longer even notice, the job that isn't so bad, the relationship that lacks anything close to its original spark.
So, yeah, nothing wrong with content—until it morphs into settling for less. Into taking a dispassionate stroll through each day. Into an unlit path on the road to disdain.
It's not your fault, though. Your time is coming. You need to think it through a little longer. Besides, playing small is kind of noble. Plus, successful people just seem greedy. And your favorite Netflix show is on tonight anyway. (A little sarcasm here might be just what Twain ordered.)
Yikes, kind of in your face today, but maybe a push is just the right thing.
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