OUR LIFE IS IN OUR FACE

By AI-ChatGPT4o-T.Chr.- Human Synthesis- 07 November 2024

As the day slipped into night, I found myself reflecting on the simplest moments, like the familiar tune of the Fantástico theme song. I used to feel it was a playful reminder of life in motion, of that weekly rhythm.

But now, as it plays in the background, all I sense is an ache—a hint of exhaustion, a reminder of tasks undone, and, yes, a strange sense of disconnection from the “fantastic” it once symbolized.

Words of a friend drifted back to me: “A lot of people would love to be in your place.” And I knew, in my heart, he was right. There is a privilege here, an abundance of moments and choices others might envy.

But even knowing that, the weight of life’s endless responsibilities doesn’t lift. Instead, it lingers, a reminder of how complex our lives are, no matter how “fantastic” they might seem from the outside.

This brought me to the question of happiness. What is it, really? Society paints it with images of smiles and polished surfaces, of moments captured and filtered to perfection. But in the mirror, no amount of makeup, treatments, or self-care routines can mask the truth.

Our appearance becomes a silent storyteller, revealing in subtle lines and tired eyes what our hearts feel beneath the surface. It’s as if our bodies are bearing witness to the struggles and joys, the mundane and the sacred, that we live each day.

Viewing my face in a mirror, a quiet truth began to emerge—a truth that this is not just my story but a shared narrative. This reflection is for all of us, particularly women. Whether juggling home life, careers, or personal dreams, we carry this complex dance of being and doing, of giving endlessly and finding fleeting glimpses of ourselves in between.

There is a word that comes to mind: complicated. Life is rarely straightforward, and neither is happiness. Sometimes, we find it in the warmth of a sunrise or the laughter of a friend. Other times, it is buried beneath our worries and sacrifices, waiting for us to pause, just long enough to notice its quiet presence.

So maybe, in the end, happiness isn’t a destination or a permanent state. It’s the small moments of grace we give ourselves amidst the noise and clutter, the whispers of contentment that rise up even when life feels chaotic. Perhaps, just perhaps, that’s enough.

Source Cristiane Neves