The afternoon rain has just stopped, leaving puddles that mirror the grey sky overhead. I’m watching a young man outside a restaurant, thumbing through his phone with the focus of someone searching for treasure. Beside him sits a cold plate of rice , the food he begged his aunt to buy him not ten minutes ago , now forgotten and getting stale.
That’s what we do, isn’t it? Chase after what we don’t have while neglecting what’s already on our plate.
I see this everywhere now. Once you notice the pattern, it’s hard to unsee it.
A couple of years back, an acquaintance texted me, filled with excitement about learning to code. Perfect timing, I thought, as I was taking an intro programming course that semester and had access to some excellent video tutorials. “Start with these,” I suggested, sharing the resources and sending him a drive link. That was in 2023. Today? Those videos remain unwatched. When I bumped into him months later and asked about his coding journey, he shrugged and said he was looking for “something more interesting.” The irony is that he still regularly posts about wanting to become a software developer.
Oh, and one of my cousins. She’s always posting on her WhatsApp status about how lonely she feels, reflecting on loneliness and her struggle to find a genuine connection. Yet a good friend of mine made consistent, and dare I say thoughtful, efforts to court her. His messages went unanswered, his invitations declined, and his efforts unacknowledged. Still, her status updates about loneliness continue.
I know someone who job-hunted for months, sending out application after application, complaining about the unfair job market. Then he landed a position at a bank, the very opportunity he’d been desperate for. Now? He shows up late, puts in minimal effort, and treats the job like an inconvenience rather than the blessing it once appeared to be.
These stories aren’t just random — they’re part of a pattern I’ve been seeing, not just in others but in myself too. We complain about what we don’t have while completely ignoring what we do. We treat our opportunities like they’re disposable, like they’ll always be there waiting for us. We overlook the people who care about us because we’re too busy chasing something new, something we think will be better. I’ve done it myself. I’ll complain about not finding work, but when I finally get a gig, I drag my feet, make excuses, and don’t give it my all. We’ll ignore messages from friends who want to chat, then wonder why no one calls us. I’ve even seen it in relationships — girls I know treat good guys who want to marry them like they’re invisible, all while crying about how they can’t find anyone decent. I’ve seen people preach about kindness and respect online, but then turn around and treat their own siblings like they don’t matter.
What’s happening here? Why do we do this?
I think it’s this idea we all seem to have, this belief that the grass is greener somewhere else. We think if we just change the scenery — get a new job, a new friend, a new city — everything will magically be better. But the truth is, we’re carrying the same eyes everywhere we go, and if we can’t see the good right in front of us, no amount of new scenery will fix that. It’s like fishing in a river full of fish but throwing them back because they’re not the exact kind you wanted, all while complaining that you’re hungry. The fish are there, the opportunities are there, the love is there — but we keep throwing it back, hoping for something that might never come.
Now, I’m not saying that everything we have is always good enough. Sometimes the job really is a poor fit. Sometimes the person pursuing us isn’t right for us. Sometimes the opportunity isn’t the right one. Life has nuance. But there’s a difference between making thoughtful assessments and dismissing things outright without giving them a fair chance.
That’s where I think many of us go wrong. We don’t even give what we have a proper look before deciding it’s not enough. We dismiss too quickly. We don’t invest enough to see what might bloom with a little attention.
That guy who wanted to code — he could’ve watched those videos and realised programming wasn’t for him, but at least he’d know. My cousin could’ve given my friend a chance, even just a park date, to see if there was something worth building on. The guy at the bank could’ve shown up on time, put in the effort, and maybe found a way to grow in that role, or at least leave with his head held high.
Whatever the reason, the cost is real. We waste precious energy focusing on what we lack instead of appreciating what we have. We miss opportunities hiding in plain sight. We overlook the love that’s being offered because it doesn’t arrive in the package we expected.
We need to stop looking past what’s in front of us. We need to stop treating our opportunities like they’re cheap, the people around us like they’re replaceable, the love in our lives like it’s not enough. Because here’s the hard truth: one day, we might wake up and realize those opportunities are gone, those people have walked away, and that love has faded — not because it wasn’t good enough, but because we didn’t take care of it when it was there. I don’t want to be the person who looks back and says, “I had so much, but I kept waiting for more.” I don’t want that for you either.
I wonder how many friendships never deepen because we’re distracted by the pursuit of new connections. How many careers stall because we’re daydreaming about different paths rather than excelling on the one we’re on. How many romantic relationships wither because we’re wondering if someone better might be out there?
The friend who wants to learn coding but won’t watch the videos? He’s still at square one while others who started when he did are building applications. My cousin who ignores genuine interest? She’s still posting about loneliness. The reluctant bank employee? Recently let go.
The truth is uncomfortable but simple: no perfect circumstance awaits us around the corner. The perfect job will have difficult days. The perfect partner will have annoying habits. The perfect home will need maintenance.
Real happiness isn’t about finding flawless situations — it’s about nurturing what we already have, seeing the potential in what’s present, and putting in the work right where we stand.
Those programming videos might seem basic, but they’re the foundation everything else builds upon. That person showing interest might not check every box on your list, but genuine care is rare and valuable. That “starter job” might not be your dream position, but it’s providing income and experience that could lead to better opportunities.
This isn’t about settling. It’s about being present enough to recognize value before it walks away. It’s about understanding that sometimes the things we want most are already within our grasp — we just haven’t bothered to close our fingers around them.
I’m trying to practice what I preach. When I catch myself complaining about what I don’t have, I pause and redirect my attention to what I do have. When I feel the urge to look elsewhere for solutions, I first examine what’s already within reach. When I’m tempted to treat an opportunity casually, I remind myself how much I wanted it before I had it.
There’s wisdom in the saying “Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can.” Before wishing for more water, perhaps we should first check if our cup is already full — we just haven’t bothered to drink from it.
The next time you find yourself longing for something different or better, take a moment. Look around. Is there something valuable you’re overlooking? Is there someone reaching out who deserves your attention? Is there an opportunity you already have that you’re not fully embracing?
The road to better isn’t always about finding new paths. Sometimes it’s about walking the one you’re on with more awareness, more gratitude, and more intention.
The grass isn’t greener on the other side. The grass is greener where you water it.