Category: R-Z

Essays starting with RSTUVWXYZ

  • Shared DNA-blessing, burden or both?

    The Joy of Shared Traits

    There’s something magical about seeing families together. It’s such an underrated feeling, the way similar people with similar traits create a sense of connection. The same noses, the same eyes, the same cheeks or eyebrows.

    Even the way they walk or the shape of their fingers, it’s like nature is showing off, saying, “Look how clever I am.”

    I’m an obsessive pattern-seeker. I have to find connections everywhere. I’m very good at remembering people, their faces, their nuances, their quirky stories. It’s like I have a mini profile page for everyone I’ve ever met, and with little effort, I can pull it up anytime I want.

    Every time I see a family together, I get this fuzzy feeling. I rejoice in this small wonder that nature has created. The beautiful sharing of DNA, the way traits are passed down, it’s a quiet miracle.

    The Burden of Resemblance

    But not everyone finds joy in resemblance.

    Some people don’t like looking at their own face because it reminds them of someone who hurt them in the past. Imagine your face being your own burden.

    You might think you’re not aesthetically pleasing, but the truth is simpler: you haven’t healed yet. You haven’t been able to move on.

    Resemblance can be a double-edged sword. It connects us to those we love, but it can also bind us to those who’ve caused us pain.

    The same hands that bring comfort in one person can bring heartache in another.

    It’s a strange, heavy thing, to carry someone else’s traits when they’ve left scars on your heart.

    The Ephemerality of Time

    The ephemerality of time is real. Time is too short to not be spent with your loved ones, yet sometimes it feels unbearably long when you haven’t been able to reconcile with them. Or maybe life’s winds have carried you far from home, leaving you longing for the connections you once had.

    And then, one day, you see someone, your cousin, your sibling, your uncle, or your aunt. There they are, with the same body language, the same voice, the same wrinkles that you saw on your mother’s face. The same laughter, the same hands. For a moment, you’re back with the person you’ve lost. Your cold heart warms up again.

    You don’t feel so lost, even if it’s just for a little while.

    Maybe you keep coming back to these moments because that’s all that’s left.

    God is kind. He takes a lot, but sometimes He leaves a lot to carry on too.

    Finding Comfort in Patterns

    In the end, resemblance is both a gift and a challenge. It connects us to our roots, to the people who came before us and the ones who will come after. It’s a reminder that we’re never truly alone, even when we feel lost.

    But it’s also a call to heal, to untangle the emotions tied to our reflections and find peace with who we are.

    So, the next time you see a family together, take a moment to appreciate the wonder of resemblance. Notice the shared traits, the mirrored gestures, the quiet connections.

    And if you catch your own reflection in the mirror, remember:

    you’re not just a ripple in someone else’s story,

    you’re the center of your own.

  • The Toxicity of “At Least” Culture

    The culture of being grateful is slowly being replaced, or rather overshadowed, by a subculture of “at least,” which often fails to meet even the bare minimum of human decency, especially in the highly toxic societies we inhabit today.

    To put this into perspective, when we’re struggling, we naturally want to find positivity in life. So, we start looking for good things, in situations, in people, in the small moments that give us hope.

    Gratitude, in this sense, becomes an internal journey. It helps us rise above mere survival and feel worthy of the blessings in our lives, many of which others might only dream of.

    But when we shift to relationships, especially toxic ones, whether at the community or family level, this genuine gratitude is often weaponized. It gets sugarcoated, distorted, and replaced with the word “at least.”

    This phrase is then used to invalidate the feelings of the struggling person, turning their pain and longing for love into something trivial.

    Instead of addressing the root of the issue, “at least” becomes a way to silence, minimize, and dismiss.

    For instance, when someone in a toxic relationship expresses dissatisfaction or emotional neglect, they might be met with phrases like, “At least they don’t hit you,” or “At least they provide for you.”

    These statements diminish the person’s needs, invalidate their love languages, and imply that they should be content with crumbs when they deserve the whole loaf.

    This is not to deny that there are exceptions, some individuals might truly be narcissistic or overly self-centered, always fixated on their own needs.

    However, in most cases, the “at least” culture reflects a systemic failure to acknowledge the emotional and physical well-being of those who depend on us.

    The problem with “at least” is that it often doesn’t even meet the bare minimum. It excuses underperformance, justifies neglect, and absolves responsibility.

    By using “at least” as a defense, the burden of improvement is shifted from the person who should be accountable to the one already suffering. It sends the message that striving to do better isn’t necessary, as long as one does the absolute least to avoid outright condemnation.

    This toxic mindset isn’t limited to interpersonal relationships, it’s deeply ingrained in societal structures. When those in positions of power underperform or fail to fulfill their duties, toxic societies quickly defend them with arguments like, “At least they’re doing something.”

    This rhetoric not only undermines accountability but also perpetuates a culture of mediocrity, where improvement becomes an afterthought rather than a priority.

    The damage of “at least” lies in its ability to stifle growth and diminish the potential for positive change. It creates an environment where people settle for less, stop striving to be their best, and feel justified in placing their burdens on others.

    It normalizes complacency and discourages meaningful efforts to be better, whether as partners, leaders, or even human beings.

    To move beyond the toxicity of “at least,” we must reimagine what gratitude means. True gratitude is about appreciating the good in our lives while recognizing areas for growth and improvement. It’s about valuing others’ efforts while holding them accountable for the roles they play in our lives.

    It’s about finding balance, celebrating what’s good without tolerating what’s harmful.

    Instead of settling for the lowest benchmarks, we must strive for a culture where everyone feels valued and respected.

    We must cultivate environments that encourage people to be their best selves, not through shame or pressure, but through mutual respect and empathy.

    When we stop using “at least” as a justification for mediocrity, we open the door to healthier relationships, better leadership, and stronger communities.

    The key is to challenge complacency and embrace a mindset of continuous growth. By expecting more from ourselves and others, we can foster a society where genuine effort and accountability are the norms, not exceptions.

    Conclusion
    The culture of “at least” must be replaced by a culture of improvement, empathy, and mutual respect.

    Gratitude and accountability can coexist, one doesn’t have to come at the expense of the other.

    When we embrace this balance, we move closer to building a world where every individual can thrive, not by lowering our expectations, but by continually raising them for the greater good of all.

  • The Paradox of Spontaneity

    Now and then, I meet people who mirror a part of me. Like me, they are adrift, navigating life without a clear destination. We belong to a group that doesn’t dream in blueprints or grand visions. We’re not marathon runners with meticulously mapped-out strategies for success. Instead, we’re 100-meter sprinters, racing toward the nearest goal—a carrot dangling just out of reach—while being tethered to reins we can’t even see.

    Older generations often seem eager to guide the youth—or perhaps they’re searching for guidance themselves through these conversations. They ask us, “What’s your goal? Do you know where your life is headed? Do you have a roadmap?” It’s ironic, though. Many of them neglect their own health, skip their medications and healthy habits, and act as though they can regain control of life whenever they choose. They ridicule younger generations for living a reckless and unplanned life, all while stumbling through life in much the same way.

    Do humans ever truly grow wiser with age, or do we simply shift our blind spots?

    Taking a step back, I wonder: Is it really so bad not to have everything figured out? If it is, then why do we celebrate spontaneity in certain contexts? We buy books, attend workshops, and read blogs promising to reignite our spark—in life, in our careers, and even in our relationships. Yet outside of those contexts, spontaneity is so often dismissed.

    In a career, spontaneity is labeled as randomness or recklessness—unless it leads to success. Then it’s rebranded as “risk-taking.” In love, spontaneity might be celebrated as playfulness or condemned as instability and deceit. In daily life, it’s often seen as a sign of madness. And in fashion? If you’re a trendsetter, your choices are revolutionary. If you’re not, it’s just bad taste.

    We seem obsessed with contradicting ourselves. The books we read aren’t meant to translate directly into real life. We don’t actually want to be our ideal selves; we just want to dream about what we could become. Why? Is it fear of failure? Or is it the vulnerability of exposing who we really are?

    Maybe the real question is this: Are we ready to show up as we are—to live unapologetically, embracing our passions and desires without fear of judgment? Or will we remain tethered to expectations, dreaming of freedom while clinging to the reins?

    The answer, I suppose, lies in whether we’re willing to stand metaphorically naked before the world, shedding the layers of what we’re supposed to be and finally becoming who we are.

  • The Search Of A Soulmate

    Lately, I’ve started to believe that our search for a soulmate isn’t a quest for answers—it’s a quest for shared questions.

    For centuries, we’ve idealized the notion of a soulmate as “the answer to all my questions.” Love songs, poetry, and stories tell us that we were born incomplete, carrying questions only our beloved could answer. But what if we’ve misunderstood this narrative? What if the answers have always been there—offered by our friends, our family, or even life itself? What if the essence of a soulmate lies not in answers, but in the questions they ask?

    Friends, after all, satisfy our curiosity. They give us answers, clarity, and a sense of grounding. That’s why friendships endure; they fill gaps in our understanding. A soulmate, however, is different. They are not the ones who settle your uncertainties—they are the ones who mirror them. They ask the same questions that keep you awake at night.

    This idea might feel unsettling, especially in a world where love is marketed as a solution. We’re taught to seek compatibility through shared goals, values, and intellectual pursuits. We’re told to look for someone who “completes us” or “makes us better.” But what if the true purpose of a soulmate is to stand beside us, equally lost, equally searching?

    It’s not the answers that bind us, but the shared journey of questioning. To feel truly connected to another is to see your own confusion reflected in their eyes and to find comfort in that mutual uncertainty. The idea of “completion” becomes irrelevant because the bond isn’t about fixing; it’s about exploring.

    This is why relationships often falter when one partner “finds the answer.” The balance shifts. Suddenly, the partnership feels unequal—one leads while the other lags behind. In such moments, the relationship risks becoming an uncomfortable hierarchy, rather than the safe haven it once was.

    A soulmate isn’t a wise teacher sent to enlighten you. They’re not the long-awaited guru with a roadmap to your life. They are, instead, your fellow wanderer—the same goofy, clueless last-bencher who doesn’t have all the answers either. Together, you stumble through life, laughing, tripping, and asking questions that may never have answers.

    The real question, then, isn’t “Who is my soulmate?” but rather, “What are my questions?” Have you sat with your doubts long enough to understand them? Have you figured out what you’re truly searching for? Because only when you understand your own questions can you recognize the ones who share them.

    A soulmate isn’t a destination. They’re not an endpoint to your search. They are a companion who joins you on the journey, walking beside you through the uncharted terrain of life’s mysteries. And maybe, just maybe, the beauty lies in the questions themselves, not the answers we once thought we needed.

  • The fallacy of attempts

    How often have we longed for that spark of motivation? That voice from the sky, a tiny heartbeat in our ears urging us to take the first step?

    For many of us, this yearning is all too familiar, a moment suspended between desire and inaction, waiting for something, or someone, to nudge us forward.

    As a chronic procrastinator, sometimes for serious reasons, sometimes not, I’ve always been fascinated by what drives people to take action.

    What makes some of us leap forward while others remain paralyzed, endlessly circling the starting line?

    The Movers and Their Mysteries

    Some people seem to glide through life as if they’re on a giant slide, propelled by some invisible force.

    Call it discipline, ambition, routine, or perhaps an external push imposed by others. Whatever it is, this internal fire, their ability to take that crucial first step, is enviable.

    But what fuels them?

    Is it the anxiety of falling behind?

    The thrill of belonging to something greater?

    Validation from society, family, or themselves?

    Perhaps it’s faith in a higher power, an idol, or a purpose beyond comprehension.

    Their motivations might spring from the darkest corners of revenge and jealousy or from the purest emotions of love and self-fulfillment.

    For some, the drive comes from parental expectations; for others, it’s the inability to sit still.

    To one, life means constant striving; to another, it’s about leaving a legacy in this fleeting existence.

    For some,it is just about being human which means ‘to do’. 

    The Strugglers Who Falter

    Then there are those who, no matter how inspired, can’t seem to sustain the momentum. They stumble, either before or after the first attempt, always falling short of motivation.

    They may have a long list of reasons, but the bottom line remains: when things get tough, they crumble.

    For some, life deals an unfair hand, unrelenting challenges that make success, as defined by society, seem unattainable. Their priorities might lie in caring for family, while the world measures success in wealth.

    For them, moving slowly is essential to their version of fulfillment, even as the world glorifies the endless chase.

    These two kinds of people, those who sprint forward and those who hold back, are, perhaps, just two sides of the same coin.

    Their grit may be the same, but their non-negotiables differ, shaped by personal circumstances, values, and priorities.

    Beyond the Surface: Motivation and Culture

    It’s not just about individual choice; cultures, societies, and communities deeply influence what we value and strive for.

    Historically, collective goals have been shaped by the needs of the time, whether survival, economic growth, or social order. These goals trickle down, shaping individual aspirations and defining what we deem “successful.”

    But as societies evolve, so too must these common goals. It’s time to move beyond shaming those who choose a different path. In communities where survival is no longer the pressing issue, individuals should be free to set their own definitions of success.

    For some, this might mean wealth or career achievements; for others, it might mean the simple joy of being alive, breathing, and existing without the need for constant striving.

    The Freedom to Be

    Perhaps the ultimate goal is not about doing or achieving, but about being.

    To embrace our personal journeys without fear of judgment, to honor our choices even when they don’t align with societal norms.

    After all, life’s true value isn’t measured by external benchmarks but by how authentically we live it.

    So, whether you’re driven by ambition, propelled by discipline, or simply savoring the bliss of being, know this:

    your path is yours alone.

    And that is enough.