Regret and ambition

I’m learning to be content with the little things, I’ve spent the last 3 years on a treadmill, chasing after elusive success. Dreaming that maybe just maybe I’ll hit gold, but all the while neglecting the jewels I have here, in my home, just dying for a moment of my attention.

I look away from the screen for a second, and my daughter just shines, her daddy loves her. And when I look away, I don’t even know if That hurts. Will I be disappointed when she’s older and I have to wait for her to not be so busy to stop by and give her dad a hug, and tell me through grit teeth that she’s thankful that I provided the world for her, but in the back of her mind she really can’t think of a single time that I broke away to be present.

These are the thoughts that have taken me captive recently, the drive of lost memories, and thoughts of what could have been. Does success equate the loss of precious moments? If so, do I even want it? If I make millions with my passions but lose my babies to the constant chase of elusive meaning, did I gain anything at all?

I want to be an artist, but what about the finger painting? I want to be a developer, but what about developing basic human kindness and self sufficiency? I want to be a leader and innovator, but what about leading my family and innovating memories? It seems like there will always be something that suffers no matter when we focus our effort. Maybe this is all for naught, I may never be a pillar of industry, and I’ll have wasted the most precious moments chasing something that was never meant for me.