Do What Matters Most Novels & Stories

It was understandable and it was also something I needed to be honest about. “I’ll work on that,” I said. “It’s going to take time.” “I know,” he said. “I’m not asking for overnight.” “What else,” I said. He thought about it. “To matter to you. Not as the father of your child or the provider of the house or the person funding your advocacy work. Just—” He stopped. Found it. “To matter to you as a person. The way you matter to me.” The kitchen was very quiet.

Jean pondered and then asked, "If you want to do two things at the same time, but these two things are totally different, what would you do?" Jenny immediately gave the answer, "Do the most important thing, and never say that both things are important. There will always be a priority. It is impossible to be equally important, like the question that men are often asked- which one will he save first when his mom and wife fall in the water at the same time? In case of an emergency, he’ll know which is more important." What Jenny said shocked Jean. Her answer was right to the point.

“What matters is I am close to getting what I want.” “Everything matters, Abby. The entire journey matters. When something good happens, and when something bad happens, those moments are all important. The same goes for the people that have a hand in these moments. So please, who did this to you? We must make sure this person doesn’t get a chance to do the same thing again.” “It is fine, Ruby. It won’t make a difference if the person is known anyway.” “Abby…” “I want to go back to school to get something.”

Because of what you can do, starting today, with whatever you have, in whatever room you happen to be standing in. *That is the whole secret. There is no larger secret than this. Notice who is unseen. Do something about it, with whatever you have. Keep doing it. The rest follows, not because you plan it to, but because that is simply what happens when enough people, across enough generations, keep choosing to see and to act.* *I was an omega who was told, for years, that I did not matter. I was wrong to believe it, and the world was wrong to tell me. But I did not know I was wrong until I started acting as though I mattered, and the world, slowly, began agreeing.*

"Do you think we're forgetting anything?" "Probably. But it doesn't matter. The important things are covered." "What are the important things?" "You. Me. People we love. Food. Music. Vows. Everything else is just details." "When did you become so zen?" "Therapy. Also, perspective. None of the details matter if we're not actually ready to commit. And we are. So the rest is just logistics." Friday evening, Clara comes over. "Three weeks. How are you really doing?"

“Not just you. The pack. The people I was supposed to be serving.” I held the phone and said nothing. “I filed the challenge because I wanted to matter,” she said. “You know that. I said it.” She paused. “I have been thinking about what mattering actually means since I said it.” Another pause. “It turns out mattering is not the same as being the one who changes the outcome of things. Mattering is being useful to something real.” She paused. “I am thirty-one years old and I have spent the past six years being decorative and strategic and I have not been useful to anything real in all of that time.”

“You’re good at that stuff. You like being in the middle of everything.” Mike scoffed. “That’s not my job. This is your life.” “Yeah,” I replied. “Which is exactly why I’m not turning it into a group project.” There was a beat of silence. “So that’s it? You’re just going to float through it and let everyone else figure out the details?” Mike said. “No,” I said. “I’m going to focus on what matters.” “And what’s that?” “Not this,” I said quietly. “You’re impossible,” I said.

And yet, here I was, standing in front of these people, declaring my feelings, putting my reputation on the line—and she wouldn’t even look at me. I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. This wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It wasn’t about proving anything to the people around me. It was about her. I turned back to the group, my voice firm. “You ask me what happens if I lose everything. But the truth is, I’ve already found what matters most – people lose everything every day. I’ll survive, especially when I’ve found what is important.” Another murmur spread through the table, laced with intrigue and disbelief.

The air became heavy. I could see them all staring at me like mad people. They were threatening me in my fathers company. Was that what this was? “Let me see if I understand you correctly. It seems there are a few things that do not matter: my performance doesn’t matter; the numbers don’t matter; the contracts I have signed don’t matter. The only thing that does matter is whether or not you approve of the person with whom I share my life.” Reynolds sneered. “Stop twisting it.”

“Not just routine work. Something that matters.” Her mother reached across the table and held her hand. “Helping people matters anywhere. You don’t have to risk yourself to prove that.” Alice let out a slow breath. “I kept thinking about the money,” she admitted. “It’s tempting.” “Of course it is,” her mother said gently. “But peace is also valuable.” They sat there for a long moment. Finally, her mother spoke again, softer this time. “If you say no to them, will you regret it?”