We only live once, and we have but one life. In this slender thread of time, we often feel like shadows, searching for our place within our own destiny, as if in a room full of distorted mirrors. And yet, behind these warped reflections lies a deeper truth, buried beneath the surface: the ideal. To have an ideal is to have a clear mirror, pure and unclouded, a mirror that does not deceive but gazes back at you with a sincerity that can be both frightening and liberating.
An ideal is not merely a projection of desires, empty ambitions, or fleeting dreams. It is the essence of a higher calling, a summons that pulls us beyond our own smallness, demanding that we see ourselves for who we truly are. You cannot hide from an ideal, just as you cannot hide from yourself. In it, you cleanse yourself as in clear water, bathed in light and truth. You shake off the dust of compromises, the weight of being someone else, the masks that society places on your face. In the mirror of the ideal, the tired face becomes a question: who are you, truly?
With each passing day, this mirror offers us the chance to reconfigure ourselves. It watches us, silent and constant, and we, standing before it, attempt to align our image, to refine our contours until we begin to accept who we are. This acceptance is not resignation; it is rediscovery. It is the moment when you stop running from yourself and begin to truly live. To live consciously, beyond simple sensations and fleeting emotions, beyond what you want to appear to be. It is, at its core, the path to authenticity.
But what does it mean to be authentic in a world that changes so quickly? A world that shifts its values, loses its meaning, and becomes lost in the thousands of reflections of a collective self? To be authentic means to recognize the grass by its green and the water by its thirst. It means returning to the essential simplicity, to those basic markers that, once lost, leave you in an inner desert. It is about returning to the roots, to the things that nourish your soul, not just your body.
When you no longer recognize the grass by its green, you have lost touch with life. Green, the symbol of nature, freshness, and renewal, becomes a mere color without meaning. And if water is no longer associated with thirst, you have lost the sense of your most fundamental needs. Water becomes then only an inert substance, not a source of life. Thus, disconnected from the reality around you, you become invisible in the hearts of others. No one will ever long for you, for no one will be able to feel what you truly were.
To live without an ideal is like living without a map. You walk down unknown paths, stumble into mazes, lose yourself in the crowds without ever finding your place. The ideal, however, gives you direction, offers you an inner compass that shows you the way even in the darkest of nights. The ideal is the mirror that prevents you from losing yourself within yourself.
Life is not just a series of strung-together days; it is a story we write with every choice we make. The ideal is the guiding line, the point of orientation by which we shape this story. Without it, we are merely a series of insignificant fragments, like murky water that reflects nothing clearly. But with it, our lives become poetry, a weaving of gestures, dreams, and realities that, even in the most difficult moments, glow with meaning and light.
To have an ideal is, then, to have an inner lighthouse, a light that guides you when the fog of the modern world threatens to swallow you whole. You are still here, still alive, connected to everything that is authentic and true. And in such an ideal, you cleanse and purify yourself daily, until not only do you accept yourself, but you truly rejoice in who you are.