An existential crisis

It on occasion bothers me, life. I sometimes feel that it doesn't have any worth on its own. Not for everyone. Some people make their lives valuable, by how they think, the people that they strive to be, rarely by what they do. WHO they are is valuable. It's something specific that I look for in other people of which I myself fall short on occasion, at least concerning my own personal standards.

Depth.

Perhaps that's a pretentious word. It suggests a certain distaste for "shallow" people, and often the kind of people that so desperately hate "shallow" people make nearly everyone out to be shallow. I could understand the majority of the population hating such a person, as well as being such a person. People are crazy. But we all knew that.

I had to take a step back from the chaos in my mind and figure out what I meant by depth. There was some great appeal to making my life worth something, in order to share it with those that matter to me. Friends, family, a special man someday, maybe even something bigger than all that. I want to have something of worth to share.

Of course I want a fair trade. Maybe it's too much to ask people to make their lives worth something? I doubt it. I think there are very specific things that lend value to a person.

Intellect, balanced with grace. Courage, balanced by wisdom. Love and loyalty. What is it that makes somebody valuable? What makes me worth anything? Does being intelligent but cocky about it lose me points? Is it even a point system at all!?

All I know is that this special kind of worth is what attracts me to certain people. Friends. Possible loves. Mentors. Then again there's my family. Are they somehow exempt from my system of worthy attraction?

Or perhaps it is just that the better I know a person, the easier it is to see their worth.







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