Sacrifice isn’t an ugly word.
Sacrifice shouldn’t always be a soul-stretching struggle.
You should feel your sacrifice, it’s allowed to be a battle. But it shouldn’t be a war. Maybe that’s just the ravings of a loon, but it’s where I am rooted.
It’s not idealistic nor perfect. But it is an existential necessity; therefore, I feel it should be commonplace and simple. Possibly, even probably, painful, but ultimately the resolution. And yes, nature is selfish, but nature shouldn’t triumph self-elected action.
I know sacrifice beyond the capacity many have the ability to breach. So in an air of equality, maybe I am at the disadvantage of having such an intimate relationship with sacrifice. Even so, setting aside such a conflict of interest, my guttural response is to lay myself down. Self abandonment has been embedded in my being and anything on the contrary does not survive. Self-preservation has seemingly shattered in the face of selflessness, and to, in-turn, to be toed by self-seeking, is an abomination.
I have grown intolerant to those not on the apex of selflessness. Those who have not flirted with their end do not have the apparent comprehension of how paltry their feelings, opinions, times, and resources are. So allow me to share: they are fleeting and deprecating, and altogether worthless in the face of harmony and relationship.
Once again, I may be biased, but as I have surrendered my life on occasion, I now have no qualm in handing over my temporary comfort. I don’t hold myself to a different standard, but I hold the same ruler to all:
Your feelings will last for four minutes; do you want your relationships and situations to live on that same timeline, or would you like them to outlast the circumstantial?
Then disregard the trivial and embrace that which matters.