Losing Yourself to Find the World

There is something that, once noticed, can shift the ground beneath your feet every single time you remember it. That being, the moment you stop staring at your own toes and actually look up, the world begins to shine.

Life is not short on beauty, it is just that people often forget to notice it. We charge through the days of the week with blinkers on, worrying ourselves with the usual internal blurb… bills, dinner, deadlines, and whether the neighbour noticed that awkward wave you half committed to in the middle of the shop. Meanwhile, right next to you, life keeps moving in abundance… spilling over, conversations waiting to happen, books that could change your mind, songs that could reroute your mood, and strangers who carry whole libraries of wisdom behind their eyes.

When you step out of your own way, you bump into treasures everywhere. Not diamonds and gold, but the really good stuff, wealth that never depreciates. A belly laugh from a friend when you weren’t even trying to be funny. The way the jacarandas and yellow trumpet bushes throw their blooms onto the pavements like perfect purple and yellow confetti. That uncle at the corner café who still calls you “my girl” even though you are well into the mature end of adulthood.

It is in those moments you remember that the world isn’t asking you to fix it or control it. It just wants you to notice it, to align with it. To take a step outside your own looping orbit and into an open, receptive space of curiosity. Because when that happens, happiness arrives quietly into your pocket, like re-discovering forgotten spare change that’s been there all along.

Perhaps the real objective is forgetting yourself often enough to remember the world. Do that, and you will find you don’t need to chase happiness, it’s already there, waiting to walk beside you. To live with eyes wide, ears tuned in, and heart open. To let curiosity undo you, only to stitch you back together into something far more beautiful.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes. — Marcel Proust