This is Not a Problem
We're obsessed with the insignificant.
We magnify molehills into mountains, fretting over fleeting annoyances while the truly colossal concerns of existence slip by unnoticed.
Traffic jams, a bad grade on a kid's test, the neighbor's new car… these are not problems.
Inconveniences, maybe.
Irritations, perhaps.
But problems?
Hardly.
Let me tell you what a real problem is. A real problem is the inevitable countdown to the end of our days.
It's the creeping realization, for those who have it, that we're squandering precious hours on trivialities, comparing ourselves to others, envying their possessions, their vacations, their seemingly perfect lives.
We're so busy keeping up with the society that we forget to live our own lives.
I know a man who aborted his child because it wasn't developing "properly."
Now that's a problem.
A problem of the soul, a rot that eats away at a person from the inside.
Then there's the high-powered lawyer whose daughter had to repeat the third grade.
Third.
Is it a problem? In a way, yes.
It's a blow to his pride, a chink in the armor of his carefully constructed image. He can't control it, can't fix it with his usual arsenal of power and influence.
His public persona takes a hit, and he's powerless to stop it.
But here's the thing: we all have weaknesses. We all have areas where we struggle. This man may be a legal genius, but he can't navigate the complexities of his daughter's education.
Even the most successful among us are still human, still vulnerable, and need help.
Years ago, I met a billionaire who scoffed at the idea of spending every year planning and saving for a summer beach vacation. "Don't waste ten years going on the beach," he'd say. "Work ten years and buy your own piece of beach instead."
He understood that time is the ultimate currency. It's not about whether or not you go on vacation; it's about whether your entire life revolves around that yearly vacation, around the pursuit of fleeting pleasures— just to be like others.
The next one was a gem, too.
On the Croatian island of Brijuni, once the private playground of Yugoslavia's President Tito, I encountered a wealthy Italian who summed it up perfectly.
"It's not a problem if you have a broken windshield on your Maserati," he declared. "The problem is if you have a broken windshield in a Fiat Uno."
He recognized that money, while not a solution to every problem, can certainly mitigate many of them. When you have resources, obstacles become less daunting and setbacks less devastating.
But here's the real kicker: even if you don't have a Maserati, even if you're driving that beat-up Fiat Uno with the cracked windshield, life's biggest problems often have nothing to do with material wealth.
They're about the choices we make, the values we embrace, the way we treat ourselves and others.
We get caught up in the rat race, chasing promotions, bigger houses, fancier cars. We measure our worth by our bank accounts, our social media followers, the envy in our neighbors' eyes.
We become slaves to our own desires, our insatiable hunger for more, more, more.
This is not a theory. I have lived around such people daily - and for a very long time. I know how they think. I know what they think.
I see how, over a long period of time, they change their ways because of the influence of the environment without noticing it.
And this is a problem.
In the process of living, we lose sight of what truly matters. We neglect our health, our relationships, our own inner peace.
We sacrifice our time, our energy, and our very souls on the altar of consumerism and social status.
This is a problem of perspective.
We've been conditioned to believe that happiness lies in external validation, in the accumulation of things. We've been sold a bill of goods, and we've bought it hook, line, and sinker.
The next time you find yourself stressing over a traffic jam, or a missed deadline, or your neighbor's new boat - remind yourself: this is not a problem.
The real problems are the ones we create for ourselves, the ones that stem from our own misplaced priorities and distorted values.
Let's stop sweating the small stuff. Let's stop comparing ourselves to others and start living our own lives, authentically and unapologetically.
Let's focus on what truly matters: our health, our relationships, our personal growth, our contribution to the world.
The legacy we’ll leave behind? What will it be like?
Anything at all?
Life is too short to waste on trivialities.
Let's choose to live with intention, with purpose, with gratitude.
Because in the grand scheme of things, most of what we worry about simply doesn't matter.
This is not a problem.
The real problem is forgetting to live.