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No one cares but you.

No one cares but you.

The thing is, if you care,┬áthat’s all that counts.

If the first thing out of your mouth is, “Well, my mother cares.” then we can just take care of that right now. You see, your mother cares about anything you do, maybe even everything you do, because she, hopefully, loves you unconditionally. Mothers don’t count here, just for the moment. Although we could also argue that mothers count more than everyone else combined.

But you have to care.

But you have to care.

Do you care that no one cares?

  • No one cares if I finish my next book.
  • No one cares if a painter doesn’t paint again.
  • If a banker quits his job.
  • A friend moves to Alabama.
  • A dog doesn’t get his bone.

Deep down, the only one who truly cares is that person (or dog). Sure, people would like to see it happen or would be sad if it happens. But you can explain your way out of why you quit your job, why you moved to Alabama. But can you explain it to yourself?

You are your only judge. You are your only fire, source, power. You are the only one who cares about you.

But you see, if you do care about what you’re doing or what you’re making, creating or inventing; if you care about what no one else cares about, what people question and judge and snicker at, if you care about that, then you care about what you’re doing and you care about who you are and who you are becoming.

I’m a little sad at this truth–if it indeed truth–but also it’s reality and clarity. It’s easier. There’s no one to impress or worry about if you’re the only one who cares.

How do you keep going when no one but you cares?

Because you care. You care enough to keep going, to believe in what you’re doing, to have the patience and perseverance to stick it out when no one believes in you. But you do. You believe in you.

No one cares but you, but you have to care about you. You are not included in that no one. No one is everyone but you. But you are you and that’s all that matters.

About The Author

Bradley

I don't like to call them excuses. They're priorities. With a handful of exceptions, we usually have a choice in our actions. They just need to be prioritized.

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