While it may sound controversial, malchance can prove to be a disastrous wrapping ensconcing gifts - that may be found providing one is patient and does not make demands on its contents. It helps to view life as a primarily didactic experience, and only then accepting any attributes including "my abode"; "my things" - "accepting" because such things are fleeting and subject to change. But such a view is not for everyone; what is more, the one with such "dust in the bones" (how else to describe one so accepting of indeterminacy) is challenged to translate "dust" to family who believe only in material output (and may ask, "why are you not married to someone like the business-chain-owning celebrity children's guru?") Even if one were granted the right to not maintain family ties, as so many unfortunately are in this day and age, the idea of dissolution of such ties in the name of "following my path" is not to everyone's taste. Also, that way looks suspiciously easy - likely to be marked by a moment of deep regret at some later point (maybe much, much later).
Many whose youths were marked by passionate action come to regret such drama later in life, i.e., come to see that similar outcomes could have been reached more gracefully without so much unsettled behaviour. At such time that this conclusion is reached, one may think one should "go back" but we all know there is no such thing - to do so is equally as extreme for it would require a loosening of all ties established in the mean time in the same way that the first dramatic movement required the loosening of whatever ties extant.
A challenge remains: to be a person. One may review recent malchance. It is recommended not to speak into the voice of the storm; the necessary shouts and echoes are bound to be garbled, one will not make sense unless one can reduce their message to the minimum of Morse code. Once the storm has passed, one can take account of the damage, what remains.
Here is the controversy: essence can never be lost; only attributes that may weigh one down with worry can be lost. If it was yours, you will find it again: loss is a belief. That is a maxim I see testified to by the likes of many from diverse backgrounds. Sometimes if one thinks one has lost something and then disaster strikes and one loses even more, this can be an aid and a gain.
There are quite a number of intellectuals in this age ostensibly willing to question myths we buy into about the meaning of our lives but actually peddle another myth in their place. To stop and to listen to the birds, daily, to hear the breeze rustle the trees just like it does in the groves across from the Pantheon in Athens, is to hear something else about being alive.
Maybe one really thinks that their degree unto itself will bring them a shield when they need one. Yet friends may be a better shield. We go crazy for our own versions of glass beads, accomplishments we wear with thrust out chests, yet one wonders at the spirit in which it was all attained - far more loyal and a greater inspiration for waking up to face the day may be something that cannot be qualified at all.
After the malchance, what has clung to one still smiling? To work with what one has without worrying over expectation; a dialectics resolving any growth from the nothing that is the necessity of maieutics. 有心栽花花不开,无心插柳柳成荫.

Book in background: Midwest Modern; brush: grunge by ewanism on DeviantART.

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