Inherited Blueprints

Some lives are not directed by desire,
but by inheritance.

Not what was spoken,
but what was modelled.

How work was valued.
How security was pursued.
What was considered responsible.
What was quietly feared.

Blueprints form early.
They do not arrive as commands,
but as atmosphere.

You watched what survived.
You absorbed what was praised.
You learned what kept life steady.

And so direction emerged -
not through rebellion,
but through loyalty.

Inherited blueprints often feel wise.

They produce stability.
They reduce risk.
They offer a definition of a “good life”
that others recognise and affirm.

That is why they are rarely questioned.

They are not false.
They are simply unexamined.

The cost is subtle.

You may live faithfully within a script
that was never consciously chosen.

You may succeed inside a life
that fits well -
yet feels strangely borrowed.

Not wrong.
Just not fully alive.

The dissonance usually does not appear in crisis,
but in quiet moments.

When you realise
you are fulfilling expectations
without knowing whose they were.

This is not a rejection of family.
It is not dishonour.

It is a noticing.

That what was inherited
may have provided structure -
but cannot provide calling.

Blueprints can shape a life.
They cannot reveal yours.

Purpose does not emerge
from repeating what worked before you.

It emerges when permission is granted
to question the script -
and listen beneath it.