I was fighting a small fight of my own which wasn’t leading anywhere — but like a man with a bent spoon trying to dig through a cement wall I knew that a small fight was better than quitting: it kept the heart alive.
There is no nirvana. There is no salvation. There is no afterlife. There is no rebirth. There is only immense knowledge - of the heart as well as the mind - and the potential for great discoveries, great adventures and a guarantee of more of the pain and and terror that make up so much of our short lives.
I will hazard a prediction. When you are 80 years old, and in a quiet moment of reflection narrating for only yourself the most personal version of your life story, the telling that will be most compact and meaningful will be the series of choices you have made. In the end, we are our choices. Build yourself a great story.