Flesh is merely a lesson. We learn it & pass on.
All my forebears worked for a living. My grandfather painted portraits. My mother too. My aunt painted seascapes.
You reach a point in life where you realize that you might as well do what you need to do, because your being loved or not being loved is really a function of the people you encounter and not of yourself. That is an immensely liberating insight.
I am old enough to know that laughter, not anger, is the true revelation.
The dilemma is that if one does not risk anything one risks even more.
Conflict is the soul of literature.