In your twenties, you long to see far away places.
Before you know it, you’re chasing shiny things to own in your thirties.
By the time you reach forty, nothing matters more than a few moments of honest, genuine, unguarded conversation with another down-to-earth soul.
And that’s the hardest thing of all, harder than visiting the most exotic place or owning the most extravagant thing.
Because everyone, including you, has built wall after wall to protect that fragile ego, dented and bruised year after year.
Go figure.