I believe in not caring about little things. That is not to say that I believe in lethargy, slovenliness or to disregard things that displease you, but simply that you don’t need to care. How many times a day are your emotions toyed with by simple but yet deemed powerful situations? For me it is countless, seeing as high school is nothing but one dramatic scene after another. How many people that are a part mankind spend their lives worrying about the little things? Too many.
Something I have come to notice in my life is that people love secrets. And what’s more is that people love to keep secrets from me. Nine out of ten times they’re little secrets, like who someone plans to date, what someone did on Saturday, or some gossip that is still fresh and unknown. I used to be driven up a wall by people withholding simple, petty things because I simply wanted to know. Now I, quite honestly, try to distance myself from almost all aspects of life that aren’t meaningful or important. It isn’t that I don’t care what’s going on in someone’s life, for instance, but simply that I don’t care that they want me to care. People try to create situations in their own lives that give it a little zest, and so they take a mole hill and turn it into a mountain. My belief is that you simply accept that it’s a mole hill and move on.
I wrote a “This I believe” essay a few weeks ago as a requirement for English. The night that I wrote it I felt uneasy and like I was just blabbering. But seeing as I couldn’t come up with anything plausible or writable I had to turn it in. As I walked into class Mrs. Smith told me she didn’t think I got the essay and that I had taken to it in the wrong way. For a second I felt a pang regret. Then I suddenly realized I didn’t care. I knew, from the moment I sat down to write it, that it was going to be a total failure, so this announcement wasn’t a shock. But what was liberating was the fact that I could honestly say, “I don’t care.”
I made a mistake, I accept that, mole hill number one. But what I didn’t do was the “what if” method, what if I wrote about this or that or if I did it in a different tone. I simply understood what was being told and dethatched any meaning to it. I felt like a weight had been lifted, not to sound cliché. It was like I was under some immense pressure by this world we live in to make a big deal out of doing this essay wrong. But once I told myself that it didn’t matter it was like taking a breath of air after you’ve been stifled and drowned. And so I found myself serene.
A large part of my ideal belief of not caring is that it takes so much more effort to care than to just simply say, “Whatever.” I can lose sleep because I said something stupid in front of Suzie Q, or simply detach myself from it. I believe that not caring about the little things can make not only each individual life better, but the livelihood of the planet more accommodating.
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