Content

Contentment is complex; I find it fleeting. Often, it's as if I must remind myself how good I've got it. Though, it's rarely that binary.

Personally, achieving contentment aligns with my work ethic. Even if it's something as small as housework, I won't feel satisfied until it's crossed off the list. Speaking of, lists often play a fundamental role in my mood. It's bordering obsessive, but I've yet to discover an alternative that motivates me to prioritise life's tasks effectively.

It's an issue. My mind assumes achievement and contentment are intrinsic; each can't exist independently. I doubt I'm the only one, but you'll understand if you can only be satisfied with yourself once you've given your day purpose.

However, if I confront my thinking, I realise the contradiction: if you're happy with what you've got, why strive for more? If you're working towards improvement, how do you appreciate what you have?

I ought to reassess my understanding of what it is to be content. It's defined as a state of happiness and satisfaction. I assumed the sensation was intended to last.

But what if the feeling persisted? I assume I'd recalibrate my expectations. After all, envy is the architect of achievement. Truthfully, the more I consider it, the less I believe contentment should be lasting.