The percentage of people who did not expect to die when they died is exceptionally high. Does expecting to die increase one’s chances of living at a given moment? Maybe. Maybe not, but it can’t hurt anything.
Is it more likely that hell is an elaborate fantasy created to hasten individuals to a life of morality or that it is a horrible reality that is easy to dismiss by individuals who are talented at deceiving themselves about who they are and what they deserve?
Who can say they are perfect? And yet when asked to delve deeper, can they pinpoint where they are not perfect? And who told them they could be satisfied with imperfection? Who said they could chalk it up to a character flaw of which they have no obligation to work on? “I just get emotional. I just get frustrated. It’s just me. I’m just that kind of person.”
Do not require something of another that you are not willing to ask of yourself. You want people to understand you? Understand other people. Can’t understand other people? Maybe, it’s because you can’t understand yourself.
What do you live for? What are you striving for? Cut out the useless. Stray away from the path that you know terminates in a dead end. Stop your retreat and dig trenches. You’ll need them later.
The odds are never in your favor.
Be bored of the meals you are served. The meals for which you create a stomach. A stomach not even necessary to sustain you. But once there, it continues to grow and you must drag it around like a giant bag to be ever-filled and never satisfied. Where does your money go? Where does your time go? Into the bag. And it will never be seen again, and why? For what purpose? You were not made to be entertained.
“What then shall I do?” Work! What drags you down at your darkest times? What makes you wish you had spent more time doing? What makes you cringe in the mirror or frustrated in the morning? Plan ahead. Sow in the morning and do not be idle in the evening.
Think not of a day as a current expenditure to be spent. It is an investment to be made. It is a deposit to make. Rake out rows, expecting to die. Plant your seeds, expecting to die. Tend your shoots, expecting to die. And maybe, just maybe, you will have a harvest and you will eat and you will live.