What we do matters less than who we are

We tend to work like old cars.
Something goes.
The engine,
The body,
The smooth flow of heat and friction,
The get up and go,
The pedal to the metal, as they say.

But we are not machines nor computers.
Even if society tricks us,
Influences us,
Tells us otherwise.
I am more than a widget giving an output.

Yes, we all need each other.
We are an interdependent species,
Even when we can feel the most alone.
Our time is sacred and limited,
Precious and potent.

How can society run simpler 
and with less friction, tension and pressure
so that what we do matters less than who we are
and how we show up?

Maybe that is what maturity is
and taking time to ask the questions, 
not just reacting and repeating
the rote memory of what we have always done.