Satisfied

He will never be satisfied. 

I’m listening to Hamilton again thinking about the implications of this phrase. 

He will never be satisfied. 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sung this song without giving any thought to the words. What an enormous assumption this one little line makes. Yes, Hamilton was ambitious. He was a visionary who thought his way was right. He wanted better world. But why do those things add up to a life void of satisfaction. 

I’m wondering these things because if this is the standard, then it might should be my personal theme song. She will never be satisfied.  

I’ve changed careers, changed jobs within those careers, moved a ridiculous number of times, and I do have a tendency to think I’m right. I have a vision for what school libraries should look like, and I’ve worked hard to spread that vision and help with its implementation. 

And yet. 

And yet, I am incredibly satisfied.

I’m satisfied with the path I’ve taken. I am satisfied with the work I’ve done, with the friends I’ve been blessed with, the life I’ve lived. I’m satisfied with new directions the future may hold. 

What I do wonder is if Hamilton slowed down enough to listen to the ebb and flow of the parts of life that make it satisfying. Did he see in the value of all the tiny pieces that make every day so incredibly fulfilling? Did he allow his thoughts to bask in the wonder that encompassed the time in which he lived? Did he breathe in the molecules that make up the larger feeling of satisfaction and allow them to fill his lungs with their beauty?

I’m thinking Hamilton may have been a bit more satisfied than history will remember him as being. To some degree, satisfaction is a choice. 

I will always be satisfied. 

Satisfied.