Nothing matters except what you decide matters to you.
Your problems aren’t as big (or unsolvable) as you think they are.
You don’t have to believe everything you see, think, experience, or are told.
And everything is mostly out of your control anyway.
That means you can ignore the glaring looks from other parents when they disapprove of the way you let your kids jump in the lake fully clothed.
It means you’re the one who sets (and is invited to enforce) your own boundaries around how and when you work and how often your mother-in-law visits.
It means you don’t have to listen to your brain when it tells you you’re a victim to your circumstances and that you simply must complete a mountain of tasks before you’ll be worthy or abundant or enough.
It means, no matter what choices you make, the outcome is never set in stone (and more often than not, you’ll feel the same thing whether you took the job or not, whether you had the kids or not, whether you married the person or not because you already feel the way you do and you’re using life to prove it to you).
Thing is, you get to decide how you want to live your life. You choose the perspective you want to view the world from. And you can change your mind at any point about anything—even after digging in your heels and convincing everyone in your life that you know what’s best.
You can’t do life wrong.
Because, and I repeat: we’re on a fucking rock floating through an infinite universe.
Nothing matters.
Simultaneously, everything does.