I've always found the phrase "packing my life into boxes" amusing. People tend to use it whenever they're they're gathering their stuff in preparation move to a new place to stay.
I've always wondered, figuratively speaking, what would the boxes contain if I were to literally attempt to pack my life into them? And by this I don't mean the physical things I own, but rather, what are the things that make up what my life is all about.
Would it be full of perishable endeavours - things that perhaps bring pleasure only for the moment but have no real lasting value? Or would it have a respectable amount of treasures - invaluable items that were acquired through much determination and hard work?
In a nutshell, would the boxes containing my life be a delight to someone else, had they been packaged into a gift box? Is my life of any worth?
These are the questions that prod at my conscience presently.The answers are not straight forward in any sense of the word. But it is something worth pondering.
What would boxes of your life contain?
I've always wondered, figuratively speaking, what would the boxes contain if I were to literally attempt to pack my life into them? And by this I don't mean the physical things I own, but rather, what are the things that make up what my life is all about.
Would it be full of perishable endeavours - things that perhaps bring pleasure only for the moment but have no real lasting value? Or would it have a respectable amount of treasures - invaluable items that were acquired through much determination and hard work?
In a nutshell, would the boxes containing my life be a delight to someone else, had they been packaged into a gift box? Is my life of any worth?
These are the questions that prod at my conscience presently.The answers are not straight forward in any sense of the word. But it is something worth pondering.
What would boxes of your life contain?
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