There is a life we plan to make, and live it.
Then, there is a life that happens and we tag-along.
Where I put the parentheses between the two sentences above, is that very small world, where we dwell; our reality. This world is a tense space, a continuing pulsation between the push and pull of the two sentences. Yet, somehow, that space never breaks, in spite of the pressures that surround it.
The space is an important separator between the two sentences — without that space, one of the sentences has to die. The two sentences cannot coexist.
We often threaten the second sentence. We sometimes ask the first sentence to go away. Nothing happens. We continue to live within the parentheses. More often than not, this is what happens with most lives.
But, some lives resign. They kill the first sentence.
And, some lives rebel. They kill the second sentence.
Their world becomes meaningful. Not just an empty bracket.