Prologue
Every life has to have a meaning.
Right?
I mean, that's what we try to do our whole life: find meaning. Some people are lucky. They find their meaning of life in the pram. Some of them are good at basketball. Some can recite complicated mathematics tables at 2 years old. Some see their mother or father in their career and decided that they want to follow the family career, be like their parents. Some know they want to be a doctor or an engineer because they like the knowledge and the technicalities of it.
Lucky bastards, I call the lot of them.
Lucky, because somehow, even thorough the upheavals of life and the rigmarole of decisions. They all end up at their destiny, don't they?
I wonder how that must feel like. To have a destiny and reach it. Clasp it firmly in both hands and taking it with you for the rest of your life. This destiny vibrating throughout your soul, giving way to a life that is filled with purpose and an excuse to be brave.
To have courage to seek that destiny.
Now that would be something, wouldn't it?
I wonder what that feels like.
