The lady behind the check-in counter wore the small, bright pink neckerchief, knotted and angled just perfectly, despite the oppressive heat. It was the color of the airline and I noted how very unfair it was that her male co-workers did not sport a matching tie. The slithering line before her resembled giant rectangular mob of dripping, sighing, shuffling humanity. Every person and their accompanying luggage added more body odor, more time, but mostly, more heat. Cameron braved the line, wrangling our bags alone, while I grabbed what would be our last Starbucks.

In typical London fashion, it was pouring rain outside so loud we could hear it in the terminal. We had to go through customs after flying in from Paris, grab our bags, race through the blitzing rain only to end up in the line of sweltering human misery. We honestly didn't believe we'd catch our 4-hour flight to Bulgaria at the pace the line was moving. We still had to go through TSA screening and find our gate; there was only a half hour to spare.

The woman in the pink scarf and I locked eyes for a brief moment and I smiled at her. She smiled back, both of us knowing full well how exasperated the other was. I whispered aloud, "I hope we get her."

Sure enough we did. She told us she hadn't taken holiday in 12 years to put her kiddos through school. She was kind and helpful and let it slide that we had not printed out our boarding passes, saving us £30 each. She was thrilled for our journey around the world and gave us priority boarding. "Good people.." she started, "should be rewarded for just being nice. It's rare these days."

I was beaming from ear to ear as if I'd just won the lottery. After the long, long weeks Cameron and I endured to get here, She came as breath of fresh air. She changed my whole day with her brightness and her kindness.

She taught me something about the beauty of long-suffering, which she had waded through with such moving grace and dignity it convicted me. She accepted her station, her doubtless meager pay (as any pay is when working with difficult people all day), and was content to serve with quiet resilance. She impressed me, not because she gave us favor when all the rest of the universe seemed to conspire against us, though I was truly grateful for it, but because she exemplified a virtue more rare than kindness, more wonderful than wanderlust: she was content.

There are thousands of advertisements that flood our newsfeeds, TVs, social media sites, and highways telling us we're unacceptable and providing an oh-so perfect solution to appease our yearnings for X many easy payments of $youneedit.95.

Instagram reminds us how we should look, feel, and behave. Pinterest tells us who and how we should love, where we should go, and what the ideal looks like. Twitter tells us what we should care about and how we should display our discontentment. Even LinkedIn reminds us what we should want and be in a professional setting! Everything we consume consumes us and spits out what we hope other people want to see and hear. They tell us to be discontent, judgmental, and irritated for asinine reasons. And to be perfect. So we live within the tension.

I'm not blaming media alone; behind every post is a person. But I have been inundated with the lies all my life and thus succumb to the stupidity of believing that I always need more and need to be more.

I've accepted that I don't. I don't need to be selfish in the name of 'self-care', when all I'm doing is acting as a mindless consumer, cutting off relationships, or indulging in self pity. I don't 'need' to be right, protect my pride or prove my point. I don't need everyone to believe I'm happy, kosher, and successful. I don't need to have the dream job, house, family, or the perfect body.

I'm not knocking self-improvement; by all means go for a run in the sunshine, I just don't think we need covetousness to motivate us. Do it because you should, not because you feel ugly, fat or empty if you don't.

The States is a consumer-seller wonderland that profits from everyday people who are unable to see the immense value in what they already have and who they already are. Don't get me wrong, if I've learned one thing in my life it's simply this: You're not that awesome. The world doesn't revolve around you. If you died today, you're history tomorrow and given a few years, the world won't even know you existed (sorry, but it's true). The world won't stop turning; people's lives will go on as if I were never a part of them given enough time. So do something that really matters and will outlive you. Be connected to something bigger than yourself. Contribute. Make the world better, brighter and more kind.

Also, Karma isn't real.

Bad crap happens disproportionately to wonderful people and great things happen to really crappy people. Life isn't fair, so enjoy a good cry every now and then. But remember that no one is totally a villain or a hero. Even if all you do is good and all you seem to get is bad in return, it's still worth it to do the good. Don't think of things in terms of what you get out of it, but what you make of it.

I want to do something that will outlast me. Or else do things that will matter for the rest of my life: make memories, serve people, be passionate about injustice wherever I find it and do what I can to make it right. I want to make choices that influence my character, my community, my loved ones.

I want to be able to accept that I can do a great deal of good and be good, even behind a check-in counter for a budget airline, even for 12 years with no vacation so that my babies get more in life than I had. That strength to be content is a blessing unto itself.

Going abroad gave me some real perspective, just as it always does. Here, there is no one to impress. I'm confronted with the truth that life is messy no matter where you go and material things do not matter. By accepting where I am in life and who I am, I discovered the freedom that comes from contentment. I can serve others now that I'm not so busy trying to satisfy myself.

At the start of this journey I thought, "Man, if I could travel the world with the love of my life, then I'll be happy." But then I realized just how hard it is to leave the life I built, the people I love, the crazy job that gave me grey hairs. I've learned to accept, as I did in that London airport, that things will go wrong, you'll get lost, fall down on your face a time or two. You'll make a fool out of yourself, accidentally hurt someone, need to ask forgiveness and accept apologies. The way is bumpy but it's a great ride and the good, bad, ugly should be embraced.

And it's true:

In some places the grass is truly greener, but acceptance is learning to water the grass right where you stand, wherever that is. For be, it's in Bulgaria this month. Next month, it'll be in Thailand.

I hope you learn acceptance too, for whatever you face, whatever battle you're fighting, knowing that sometimes the worse case scenario is inevitable, BUT everything is temporary. And that which is not, cannot be changed anyway.

Acceptance is letting go of grievances to enjoy all that life has to offer without the weight of constant discontentment.