WHAT MATTERS MOST

I’ve been having trouble the last few days trying to figure out something to write about. Tonight, I was listening to a song on the way home from work and it inspired me to take a look at what really matters most.

I’ve wrestled with so many thoughts. Does it matter that my relationship with my family of origin is practically nil? Not really. Does it matter that I feel like I’m stuck trying to figure out the next move in life is? Does it matter that I am wondering where I belong professionally? No.

What matters most is the day to day. What matters most is that I’m on a journey to discovering who I am. What matters most is that “family” can be anyone or anything I decide it to be. What matters most is the sense of self that is emerging. What really matters is that I don’t wallow in self-pity—though I think it would be allowed after some of the things I’ve been though over the last year or so.

Here’s my confession: What matters is that I am surrounded by people who support me. I’m surrounded by a family of my own making. What matters most to me is that even at my loneliest, most difficult moments, I have something money can’t buy. I have friends. See, what I’m trying to say, is that with all the “stuff” in life, with all the trials, the struggles, the worries, the frustrations, fears; with all the happiness, the joy, the excitement and good things, that what matters most in my life isn’t the “things” that I have or don’t have. It’s the people who are by my side figuratively and literally each and every step each and every single day. The most important things in life aren’t things. They are the people, the memories, the love that we hold so dear.