I recently watched the animated movie It’s Such a Beautiful Day, by Don Hertzfeldt. It chronicles the unfortunate events surrounding the protagonist Bill, and I found it deeply profound and moving.

Everything in your life is an intentional thing – we spend our days doing stuff that we don’t want to do. I find, much like you do, a comfortable space in my head where I’m not doing any of these things I must do to survive in a world that will not sustain me (at least not before it’s sustained perfectly once again).

I dream of spending a day not looking for and preparing food; scrubbing the product of the earth, cutting it with a purchased knife, in a rented house, cooking it on a stove with power set up long before me, under the standards of men that I will never know. I imagine not doing laundry; to clean the clothes I use to cover my timid, shameful form, to fold them and to put them away, only to take them out the next day and repeat my soil. I go on faraway adventures in my head; traveling the world, being waited on, venerable and invincible, somehow becoming closer to fulfilling my purpose while away from the things that the rest of the world does.

What I suppose has been the shift, then, lies in the fulfillment of my purpose. It’s Such a Beautiful Day proposes that your purpose is, in fact, wholly fulfilled within the monotony of your daily bread. I was instantly driven crazy by the idea that this is why I’m here. Could it be that I’m merely a self-sustaining, self-actualizing being, meant to tend to my earth, soil and clean, rinse and repeat until united once again with That Which Made Me?

All things are experienced, and best experienced then and now. I do myself no favors by wasting the experience of everyday dreaming of that which could be, or which should be. Complete focus on that which is in front of you is the fulfillment of your purpose.