What is the meaning of life? Such a big question, with millennia of thoughts, words and written texts dedicated to it. I’m not going to pretend that I have the answer, but this morning a thought grew in my mind. That one of the most important things in our lives, if not the most important, must be relationships. Relationships with our friends, family, significant other and/or God. We’re social animals, after all. 

If relationships are so important to us humans, why then do we sometimes live as if they’re not a priority for us? Why do we fill our time with work, with volunteering, with projects that make us feel important? Why do we sometimes (or often, depending on your personality) care more about what strangers think of us than how our close ones see us? Why do we tire ourselves out so much with other things, that we become grumpy and impatient with the people around us?

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