I'm sure you've all heard the story of King Arthur. The hidden heir to the throne raised by an unremarkable nobleman, and the only one who is able to draw the sword out of the stone and manifest his destiny as the rightful king of Britain. In the imaginative minds of children, these kinds of stories always run wild; they give you a sense of hope and wonder. They make you feel special, as you naturally put yourself in the shoes of the young king and watch as his story unfolds, as if it were your own.
More than ever, the same behavioral pattern is observable in adults as well. It goes without saying that adults are more childlike than they were in the past. A quick glimpse at social media or a stroll outside in public is more than enough to confirm this. This state of mind is further reflected in the kinds of media adults consume. Whether it's a movie, book, video game, anime, manga, comic book, song, and so forth, consciously or not, we put ourselves in the shoes of the hero and imagine ourselves to be something more than what we really are; we escape from reality, even if it is for a brief moment. I am guilty of this as much as the next person.
However, the harrowing truth is that if we really were to be a character in these stories, we wouldn't even have a minor role. We would be the random civilian crushed by a falling building off-screen as the hero fights the villain, or the featureless and poorly drawn figure in the background whose only purpose is to fill up the empty space on the page.
In the story of King Arthur, countless others tried to pull the sword out of the stone before him, from other kings and lords to knights and commoners. Having spent a great deal of my life wallowing in the bottomless pit that is self-improvement, I realize now that even if I were given one hundred lifetimes to improve myself so that I may one day be worthy of drawing the sword, my endeavors would only result in failure. I would fail, and a mere teenager would effortlessly pull the sword instead of me because that was never my destiny. Our fates were predetermined the moment we were each conceived, and just like the sword, they are set in stone, immutable.
Now returning to the real world, I realize now that the efforts I made to be desirable, not just to women, but to people in general, have all been in vain. I've tortured myself in gyms, wasted my youth studying and grinding for a career I don't find fulfilling, spent money on things that I didn't want, and tried countless other things in hopes that something, anything, would move the needle. But I realize now that the sword in the stone was never meant for me, no matter how much I try. That's why, though I haven't entirely given up on life and allowed myself to rot, I've come to terms with my circumstances. It doesn't make my situation any better or worse, but at least I no longer villainize and blame myself, and maybe that's worth something.
More than ever, the same behavioral pattern is observable in adults as well. It goes without saying that adults are more childlike than they were in the past. A quick glimpse at social media or a stroll outside in public is more than enough to confirm this. This state of mind is further reflected in the kinds of media adults consume. Whether it's a movie, book, video game, anime, manga, comic book, song, and so forth, consciously or not, we put ourselves in the shoes of the hero and imagine ourselves to be something more than what we really are; we escape from reality, even if it is for a brief moment. I am guilty of this as much as the next person.
However, the harrowing truth is that if we really were to be a character in these stories, we wouldn't even have a minor role. We would be the random civilian crushed by a falling building off-screen as the hero fights the villain, or the featureless and poorly drawn figure in the background whose only purpose is to fill up the empty space on the page.
In the story of King Arthur, countless others tried to pull the sword out of the stone before him, from other kings and lords to knights and commoners. Having spent a great deal of my life wallowing in the bottomless pit that is self-improvement, I realize now that even if I were given one hundred lifetimes to improve myself so that I may one day be worthy of drawing the sword, my endeavors would only result in failure. I would fail, and a mere teenager would effortlessly pull the sword instead of me because that was never my destiny. Our fates were predetermined the moment we were each conceived, and just like the sword, they are set in stone, immutable.
Now returning to the real world, I realize now that the efforts I made to be desirable, not just to women, but to people in general, have all been in vain. I've tortured myself in gyms, wasted my youth studying and grinding for a career I don't find fulfilling, spent money on things that I didn't want, and tried countless other things in hopes that something, anything, would move the needle. But I realize now that the sword in the stone was never meant for me, no matter how much I try. That's why, though I haven't entirely given up on life and allowed myself to rot, I've come to terms with my circumstances. It doesn't make my situation any better or worse, but at least I no longer villainize and blame myself, and maybe that's worth something.
