In this existence of ours, where the walls echo with the hushed secrets of our hearts, there lies a paradox—a life rich in worldly possessions, yet impoverished in meaning. You, my dear wanderer, have amassed treasures: a hefty salary, stamps on your passport from distant lands, degrees that adorn your name like medals. Your parents and grandparents breathe the same air as you, and friends linger close, their laughter etching memories into your soul. But within these gilded confines, you find yourself ensnared—a prisoner of abundance.

The world applauds your performance, your well-rehearsed role. Yet, what solace does it offer you? Which diploma has ever eased the ache in your chest? The photographs and memories, do they grant respite from the relentless anguish? You’ve studied jealousy, tasted its bitterness, and danced with rage, yet never learned the art of healing others—or yourself. You feel misplaced, a misfit in a system that churns out success stories like factory products. It’s as if life handed you the wrong script, and you’ve been reciting lines meant for someone else.
And so, each morning, you sip your coffee—an elixir of resignation—while loneliness wraps around you like a well-worn coat. You believe in God, perhaps because it’s the only entity that mirrors your isolation. In this vast universe, you see nothing but your reflection—an echo chamber of self-absorption. Your wealth, once a beacon of promise, now mocks you. It’s a currency that buys neither purpose nor peace.

But listen closely, my friend. Beyond the glittering facade, there exists a quiet revolution. It whispers that richness lies not in bank balances or accolades, but in the moments when your heart flutters with vulnerability. It’s in the touch of a loved one’s hand, the scent of rain-soaked earth, the taste of forgiveness on your tongue. Perhaps you’ve been chasing the wrong kind of wealth—the kind that rusts and fades. Instead, seek the wealth of connection, of shared tears and laughter. Embrace your mistakes; they are the stepping stones to wisdom.

And when the morning sun spills through your window, casting shadows on your solitude, remember this: You are more than your possessions. You are the symphony of your experiences, the mosaic of your scars. So, my dear wanderer, discard the shackles of material abundance. Seek the wealth that matters—the currency of the soul. For in the emptiness of having everything, you may find the fullness of being truly alive. 🌟🙏🏾

©️ Beatriz Esmer