The quintessence of the human spirit is the steadfast commitment to that which is seemingly unattainable, and emerging triumphant.
The modern world read the story of Icarus and Daedalus and refashioned it to a cautionary tale, proclaiming, "Don't fly too close to the sun". A warning shot for the young and ambitious. A fable repurposed to quell dreams and aspirations so lofty that they unsettle others just by hearing them.
The richest joys of life spring from daring to attempt, and succeeding at, feats so monumental the mere contemplation of which would leave most immobilised.
Even with transient results, that momentary grasp, knowing you're capable of achievements at that level, is enough to be a point of mental and physical separation from the rest.
The goal is not to merely avoid failure or to persevere until your last breath. It is to relentlessly select the impossible, to challenge it, and to conquer. Again and again and again. And to do this, you must have tried in the first place. You must dare.
A life characterised by the pursuit of your mission is one of the highest honours, all the more so by victory, a hallmark of a life well-lived and of freedom. The real tragedy was not in Icarus's fall, but rather in a world that may never dare to fly at all.
The modern man ensnares himself in a web of over-analysis, perpetually predicting and theorising, looking to have solved for the perfect way forwards before he begins. Forever stalling and simulating endlessly, he hides behind the need for a "perfect plan" to protect his dreams and delay the possibility they might be shattered by their testing. The greatest rewards in life reveal themselves to those who make the jump and figure it out as they move forwards.
For a man who dares to challenge the impossible isn't just living, he is transcending, embodying the ultimate essence of heroism.
And if it does all come crashing down? Smile amidst the chaos, knowing your path was that of the highest.
After all, Icarus, against all cautionary tales, died smiling.