"I'm sure you've seen her. She sucks at life," Brian once said about someone we knew. I think I laughed my ass off. I'd never thought of living as something you could be bad at. At 18, success seemed so easy -- I used to destroy people at Life™.
Later that year, masochism set in and I invented this need to impress societies that -- if I'm honest with myself -- make me ill.
Thankfully, my very secret, very epic laziness took the edge off.
But something about Liberia has inverted those two impulses. Suddenly I'm 18 again: excited about life and oblivious to strangers.
Maybe contentment isn't reserved for impossible Fridays in the future when I leave my loft for my country house or collect my kid from the school I name-drop.
But something about Liberia has inverted those two impulses. Suddenly I'm 18 again: excited about life and oblivious to strangers.
Maybe contentment isn't reserved for impossible Fridays in the future when I leave my loft for my country house or collect my kid from the school I name-drop.
Maybe, post-MBA, I set up shop on the Swahili Coast and raise kids who are more happy than impressive. Maybe contentment is a car that says, "Let's see your car make it through the jungle." Maybe it's opening your door to a fisherman holding live lobster and lime.
Yes, friends. You can be a winner at The Game of Life.
Yes, friends. You can be a winner at The Game of Life.
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