<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Essay on Yumemi's Space</title><link>https://yumemi.space/tags/essay/</link><description>Recent content in Essay on Yumemi's Space</description><image><title>Yumemi's Space</title><url>https://yumemi.space/og-image.png</url><link>https://yumemi.space/og-image.png</link></image><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2026 22:09:10 +0800</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://yumemi.space/tags/essay/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Our Temporal Perception of Pettiness</title><link>https://yumemi.space/posts/time-and-pettiness/</link><pubDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2026 22:09:10 +0800</pubDate><guid>https://yumemi.space/posts/time-and-pettiness/</guid><description>&lt;p>&lt;u>My mother used to make me do chores I hated. If she asked me to wash the dishes right now, I&amp;rsquo;d probably still groan about it. But someday she won&amp;rsquo;t be able to ask anymore, and I have a feeling I&amp;rsquo;d trade almost anything to hear her ask again.&lt;/u> This is the strange thing about mortality: it doesn&amp;rsquo;t change what happens day to day, only how we feel about it once it&amp;rsquo;s gone. Some of us despair at the thought of aging; others have come to terms with death. Despite the undeniable reality of this mortality, we all view it differently. Today, I want to talk about our relationship with mortality and how facing it can guide us toward a more deliberate life—a life with fewer regrets.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>