Other animals aren't driven by such a desire to travel the world, engage with new cultures, create charitable foundations, amass money and retirement funds, fulfill goals, and overcome personal flaws. They just do their thing until they die: eat, breathe, poop, reproduce, survive. I imagine if a monkey sat around screeching on about needing direction in his life, the rest of the tribe would point him towards the closest pack of hyenas.
But humans have no predators on their backs (other than their own neighbors) and survival is almost guaranteed so we have the capacity and time for idle chat about what we should be doing with our long lives. For us, simply existing to procreate and advance the species isn't enough. Besides, there are plenty others who can handle the job in our place. Perhaps if we were in constant danger, waking up to another day would be cause for celebration and focus. Instead, we have ambition, dreams, hopes, and, ultimately, frustrations when plans fail to come to fruition.
If someone decides that they just want to watch television, go to work, and live out the routines they've set for themselves without ever exploding their bubble or setting their sights on higher, would they be judged for a life wasted? I wonder if it's not city living that intoxicates its residents with an ambition-induced search for more, more, more or the notion that we should jam pack as many experiences into 80-something years so that when we die, what? The rest can say, "She lived a good life?" How would they know? Better yet, would it ever feel like it was enough for you?
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