Last night, I was remembering the good old days when all I cared about was listening to Nine Inch Nails and editing my MySpace profile. That adolescent sense of irresponsibility that puts you at the center of the universe and makes you forget there is a big world out there. Somehow, as you grow up, it is less about your own complex self and more about your surroundings and loved ones.

We create loved ones. We manufacture things to care about. We strive to find meaning and our place in the Universe. Those loved ones are created with a less complex, kinder self and they mean a lot more to you than you could ever imagine.

Life also becomes more about those people you don’t even know but mean a lot because of what they represent.

I don’t miss my lonely rainy evenings in front of the computer with nothing real to be responsible for or care about. Today, as I stare into her eyes and touch her tiny hands, I sculpt in my head all the different ways I could explain our reality to her. Why the “good guys” sometimes do bad things, why the bad guy is, very often, a good guy with bad luck, why loud and annoying people influence others more than the smart and discrete do. Why are we staying home, why we look at screens all day. Finding the right words, the right context, the right facts…  it is not easy. It will not be easy but neither are most things worth doing. It is not expedient, but it is meaningful.