What a Surprice

Stop for a moment and look around. What do you see? A world striving to move forward, yet stuck in its own tangled web. What could the reason be for this? Perhaps it’s because too many of us are caught in a destructive mindset: "What’s in it for me?" This self-centered way of thinking may not just be unsustainable; it could be the very reason we’re collectively slowing down.

When you act only for your own benefit, you sever the threads that connect you to the greater whole. You disconsider the world, exclude the people around you, and forget one undeniable truth: we live in, and depend on, everything we’ve excluded. It’s like pulling apart the gears of a finely tuned machine—it stops working, and so do you.

But what if we flipped the script? What if, instead of asking, “How does this help me?” we asked, “How can this help others?” The shift might be seismic. When you act for the benefit of others, you could become part of something larger. And here’s the irony: in giving to others, you may also give to yourself. It’s as though serving others becomes a way of serving us, returning energy and fulfillment in unexpected ways.

Energy isn’t lost when it’s spent on others; it’s multiplied. Picture a river: it gives freely to nourish the land, yet it never runs dry. It remains vibrant, replenished by the very cycle it supports. That’s the potential power of acting inclusively. When you pour yourself into the world around you, the energy returns tenfold—not as an accident, but as a possible universal law of reciprocity.

By contrast, acting solely for yourself might create stagnation. It’s like a dam blocking the flow of water. Sure, you might feel safe hoarding what you have, but eventually, the energy stops moving. And when energy stops, life stops.

This isn’t about martyrdom or self-neglect. It’s about alignment—with people, with systems, with life itself. Fulfillment doesn’t come from isolation; it seems to come from inclusion. And inclusion starts with recognizing that every action you take ripples outward, touching lives you may never even see.

So, the question isn’t, “What can I take?” It’s, “What can I give?” Because when you lift others, you lift yourself. When you flow with the river, you move faster and farther. And when you choose to act not just for you but for us, the world changes—and so do you.