I see people I’ve known for decades throw all the levers to full reverse in an effort to send their lives in some radically different direction—with their families, with their careers, with anything they can change (or think they can change). (I’d actually dearly love to know what one is thinking, but she and I haven’t been in regular touch in several years, and it looks really silly from the outside, and I doubt she’d receive a WTF? call from me favorably.)
I know I’m blessed. Lea and I have been together for 20 years, and in May will have been married for 18. I love our church dearly. I’m making a living in the same close family of fields I decided I wanted to go into in 1991. My sole large regret is that I smoked cigarettes, and my only (mildly) wistful tug is that I wish I’d gone away to college.
I spend essentially no time agitating about what might have been.
How much of that is that really good things have happened to me?
How much of it is that I’ve consciously chosen not to manufacture discontent?