I’ve heard many keynoters tell their audience not to “settle.”
It’s inspiring — but could inspire dissatisfaction.
Shooting for the stars is great if you own a spacecraft, but most of us live with more pedestrian transport.
The nearest star, Proxima Centauri, is 270,000 times farther than the 93 million miles to the sun. Allegorically, during our transient journey, most of us could never come close without frying or dying of old age.
Maybe it is enough for the luckier among our seven billion — hurtling at 66,000 mph around our own million-times-larger star — to arrive at fulfilling niches that pulpiteers consider less-than-stellar destinations. Much of the world would view such serendipity as an unimaginable indulgence.
If effort and geography have so favored you, perhaps you have already wished upon your star.
It is hard enough to keep our complicated bodies and lives running smoothly without grandiloquent admonishers trepidating our hard-won armistices into angst.
By all means, strive to be all you want and think you should be. But, if the star trip sputters, don’t be bummed if you have to “settle” with nichers on the terra firma of what is within grasp.