Reading Kundera's Immortality these days.
Came across a story that stuck with me deeply.

People want to be immortal. They obsess over how they appear to others, how they'll be remembered, and want to not disappear.
So they define and create themselves.
Famous people do stick around a bit longer in the world,
but what we know—whether it's a name, work, or reputation—might not be who they actually are.
It could be a version buried under media and narratives, maybe something that never actually existed.

What got me most was this part.
"Living is dragging around a painful self. But to exist, that itself is happiness.
To exist is to become a stone bench. The universe descends on it like warm rain."

I read it like this.
Being open enough to the world, not blocking what flows in, and just watching my own response to it.

When you get trapped in yourself trying to figure out who you are, trying to convince someone of it and show it off,
clinging to fame and image—life becomes exhausting and hollow. Hard to be happy.

Instead, understand how the world actually moves, how people actually act,
and think about how I fit in, what good I can do.
It's pretty simple, really. Don't decide beforehand. Just jump in.
As you jump in, something that matches your nature happens.
Throw yourself at the world, keep learning from it and people endlessly.
That's enough.