During a lunch a while ago, we’ve talked about how personal goals, especially these long term ones, motivated people. At that time, I had a vague feeling that some personal goals weren’t as important (objectively) as others, but failed to articulate.

Now I know that it is about personal attachments.

Fame, glory, even legends, can be pale if no person was attached to it. Personal experiences[1]: what you’ve ate, where you’ve been, or who you’ve met, are empty without “me”. These carry as personal attachments with me.

I believe causes that are bigger than oneself. These causes, may be incomprehensible without humanity, or may not. But these won’t be washed out when a person is gone. When the Faberge family was gone, the Russian eggs last. No engineers were named, the sewer system of ancient Rome kept going for ages, and ages beyond. These are the craftsmanship that inspired me.

These worth of dying for; are bigger than one’s life; are my very own crafts.

[1] Personal experiences, to many people, including me, are overrated. We confused personal experiences with achievements; often are glared by over-reaching experiences as if it has certain importance in itself. But it has none. Experiences to me, in sober state, with perfect clarity, only carry utility value. It is something that you can rely on, your body is trained to, in certain extreme situations. Experience of piloting a jet-fighter has no practical meaning until the day you had to. Being to Mountain Everest is nothing to brag about, until when the world is icing. It is something that you collect even sleeping and only found the serendipitous value afterwards.