Interpret the question any way you like and take it in any direction.
The thing that made me think of it today was when I was driving home from Whole Foods with a big bag of veggies, greens, organic chicken, etc., eating a muffin and drinking a *natural *soda.
I had a friend who used to buy lots of books because it made him feel like a reader, which he saw as a good thing. One day he realized that he didn’t read, didn’t particularly enjoy reading, and would rather watch tv/movies. So he stopped buying books. (BTW. he’s a doctor.)
We’ve all seen people (it used to be men, especially in Texas, but now I see girls/women doing it) who think they can still get into *those *jeans, and to prove it, they buckle their belts below their huge paunches.
I have managed to convince myself that everybody I meet gives a damn what I look like. While body-shaming and the like are still very much a thing that happens, I’m relatively certain (intellectually) that nobody cares what size my ass is. I don’t believe it, but I know it.
I also repeatedly make plans to clean the whole house top to bottom at least once a month. Even as I make the lists of things I want to do, I know I won’t do them.
That I can continue to backpack by myself around the world forever. I’m blind and 77 and I’m leaving next week for the Horn of Africa. I suppose some day I’ll say to myself “Maybe this was a bad idea”.
That someday I will meet a woman that will cause me to stick my neck out and take a chance. The older I get, the more set in my routine I get. Dating or having a relationship would be disruptive to my routine but I keep thinking I’m going to meet someone that is going to inspire me to say “screw it all, I’ll risk it all for this person.” Of course it never happens. Magical thinking. In my more rational moments I accept the path I’ve chosen.