Why am I alive? Why am I here? What am I supposed to be doing? Why do I do things? Why do I live my life? What’s the point of all of this? Am I just supposed to go around getting people to like me? Am I just living my life to be approved of, to get people to tell me that I’m okay? What kind of a life am I leading if I depend on the stamp of approval from other people like that? What if the right thing is something they don’t approve of? Do I live my life never taking the chance to do that right thing? Where is the fire that’s supposed to burn in my soul, the fire of the love of God? Why do I keep quenching it with these little worries and hesitations, these attachments to the material world?
That’s the problem, isn’t it? Attachment. All my life I’ve had these little attachments to the world of being. I want to be liked. I want to be “okay”. I want to fit in. I want people to like me. I want to be the center of attention, I want all that positive energy coming towards me. But all these things are just transient. They all die away eventually. It’s like money — when you die, you can’t take it with you. “All