I’d Like To Make A Wish For You

My wish for you is that when you wake up with a headache, you’ll have the freedom to take it slow for the day.

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I'd Like To Make A Wish For You

Lately, I’ve been wishing for lots of things. A little too much.

So much, in fact, that the pressure I’ve put on these wishes has not just created a big gap between expectations and reality, but pierced that gap in its entirety to fall right back on me. Today, I’d like to stop pushing.

The way I’m gonna try to do that is by retiring these wishes. I’ll alleviate them from their non-existent duties and fictitious responsibility to make me happy.

Instead, I’d like to make a wish for you.

My wish for you is that when you wake up with a headache, you’ll have the freedom to take it slow for the day. To throw your plans out the window, no matter how noble or seemingly important. That you’re not swayed by the pressure to perform. Not for a job you don’t like all that much and especially not for a job that you love. So that you can rest and start over because tomorrow is always another day.

My wish for you is that whenever a chunk of your income breaks away, you won’t feel angry, even if it isn’t your fault. Because you don’t depend on any one person writing you a check again and again out of benevolence. Or have some money saved for rainy days. At the very least, I wish you the calm resolve you need to approach the situation with the right perspective. Not frantic, undirected action or utter panic.

My wish for you is that you won’t daydream about how you can kiss that beautiful guy or girl so much. That you’ll find the courage to say the things you want to say, do the things you want to do, and let the truth that transpires have its day. You’re unique, worthy, and wonderful. May your authentic light shine so brightly it’ll attract the right person. Sooner or later, but anyway.

My wish for you is that when the maze of work, of love, of life becomes too foggy, you’ll be your own best friend. I hope you’ll always have people that are there for you, but even more so, I hope you’ll always be there for yourself. Console yourself. Sit down ‘together.’ Listen. Give yourself the right advice. And, most importantly, rest. Maybe tomorrow, the fog will lift.

My wish for you is that when you read a book or watch a movie or go on vacation, you’ll learn to not judge yourself for it. There’s no need to feel ashamed. Without shame, there can be no regret. Even guilt is just a tool to show us we did something wrong. Don’t let it become a ghost that haunts you wherever you go.

My wish for you is that, given the choice, you’ll choose the peace of quietness over the noise of success, power, and fame. That you’re not tempted to chase whatever can be counted because, in the end, that’s often the only thing we end up doing. Tracking numbers. Life isn’t measured mathematically. There’s so little it accounts for, yet we rely on it so much.

My wish for you is that when life pulls you in all kinds of directions, you’ll take the breath it takes to look deep inside and find the ‘no’ you want to find. No matter who or what inundates you with requests, questions, opportunities even. What truly matters is that your ‘yes,’ whatever shall be grateful enough to receive it, comes right from the heart.

My wish for you is that you won’t fall apart when your plans do. That you won’t allow the beautiful act of organized preparation to become one of quietly suffered depression. Regardless of what god you believe in, they all laugh at our schemes. We’re more than pinballs in a machine, but sometimes, even the best of our intentions fall through the cracks.

My wish for you is that you’ll wake up from the endless nightmare of pleasing everyone. Because for every one person you make happy, another falls by the wayside. I want a world in which you dare to love yourself enough to take care of your own happiness first. Always. Only then can your compassion flow freely toward others. Without expectation. Because kindness anticipating return is just leverage — and pressure lies only a few letters from oppression.

My wish for you is that in all of life’s longest fights, you’ll be able to tell the ones in vain from the ones worth fighting. Even if they take decades. Even if on a lost cause, a decade was already spent. Few struggles are worth preserving. But for the ones that are, may you never surrender.

My wish for you is that, when you’re burdened with a tough decision and you’re not sure if you know yourself enough to make it, you’ll step inside the void of solitude where you’ll find the answers. Life without music, without TV, without alcohol, without distractions, lovers, friends — even family — is scary. But every now and then, it’s the exact hole we must fall, no, jump into before we can take our next step.

My wish for you is that when you look up at the stars, you’re not lost in the hopes of tomorrow or the regrets of yesterday. That, if only for a few seconds, you’ll gaze into the sky and just be. Be silent, be still, be amazed at this magic life that found its way into your tiny existence in this gigantic universe.

My wish for you is that when you get lost in all the wishes you make for yourself, you’ll find your way back to wishing more for others.

More so, I set my heart on you sharing those wishes with them. We’re all in someone’s corner, but unless we tell them, how could they know?

I hope now you do. Thought Catalog Logo Mark