Meant to be

When I look back at how I’ve changed, sometimes it’s hard to look beyond what I’ve lost since then. University, believe it or not, was a time of hope for me. It was a time of possibility and despite living in a small city, nothing felt out of grasp. I did everything I wanted to. 

Now don’t go expecting my list of things to stagger you, but I used to leave the house on a whim but have no idea where I was headed, just to clear my head. I would call a friend I hadn’t heard from in a few days. I would walk all the way to a bridge just so I could read by the water for an hour or so. And I took great advantage of discounts on beer at a nearby roadhouse. 

I took a chance on people, made friends, had some fallouts and every day, I took the bus to school with a different mood. I walked the same trail with about six people on different occasions because it was the only one I could walk to from my house never having owned a car. I read so much and I don’t mean school readings. These were more self-assigned, if you catch my drift. I used to work on my mental health through some intermittent counselling when I needed to screw my head on straight.

And I spoke. I was part of a Toastmasters club and I like to think that I spoke my heart out.

But so much has changed now and to highlight all the ways in which I abandoned the person I used would make for painful writing. Like most of you, I’ve picked up a few demons along the path to adulthood. They might be the same ones you have. I dread Mondays. I worry about money. I haven’t finished a book in weeks. And my writing has been scattered, to say the least. And I go on a walk by myself maybe once in a fortnight and there haven’t been many bridges.

It all sounds so bleak, and I’ll be honest, it feels that way too. To leave some parts of you behind and wonder if they were the best parts of you.

“You do what you have to do, so you can do what you want to do” – is perhaps a sound description of adulthood. But a fatal flaw I’ve found is that doing what I have to do leaves me so tired and aching that I no longer spend much time doing what I want to do.

But I thought of an exercise where I would ask that person I stopped being for advice. And channeling myself from a different, possibly pre-covid age, I would reply – “Of the many things we do, there are some that we are truly meant to do. Our selves are sewn into the fabric of existence because some books need reading, some paths need walking and some people need believing in. There is no grand purpose, except the one where you find your way back to doing the things you were always meant to do. And should you stray from these acts, you recognize that you are lost and try to find your way back. Try and try again because being yourself is and will always be your most important act on Earth”

Despite the changes I’ve made in adulthood, that past-self still exists within me. Unburdened by everything I carry now, he had had some life changing advice under his sleeve. He just didn’t know he’d need to give it to himself down the road.

It is no longer as easy to walk to a bridge and read. But I will try. And when I find a bridge I will sit by the water and read. And passers-by will see a bearded young man reading by the water and have no idea that they are looking at a small part of the universe correcting itself to what it was always meant to be.

Time to under-think

When I started this blog, my goal was life lessons. I imagined writing about things that happened to me. Realizations that turned out to be revelations would feel relatable to my readers. It was a good way of looking at it for a while. But somewhere along the road, my idea of what I could post on here shifted.

I would write entire drafts but would feel like the message wasn’t good enough. Good enough for what, I’m not sure. Sometimes I would write my heart out after a horrible day and feel like I was inflicting my woes on the world and leave it in the drafts folder. Imagine putting a standard on the kind of days you have which decided if they were good enough to share or not. Like you needed to have just the right kind of bad day to get an interesting lesson out of it. A ridiculous notion, I have now found.

The problem is over-thinking. Everything. It is so easy to get caught in the cycle of over-thinking – things from little interactions to what someone means when they respond with “ok.” For me personally, I frequently end up imagining how I’ve made this person feel and how they tailored their acknowledgement (their “ok”) to a true reflection of what they think about me. Another ridiculous notion. 

In the natural way of things, too much thinking should be countered with little thinking or under-thinking. Take this blog, for instance. The amount of time spent wondering if a post was “right”, was time I could’ve spent posting something every week. What does it matter if everything isn’t perfectly balanced? It’s only a blog and I’m not trying to save the world here. Just write for myself and create something with my name to it. No need to over-think it. Just gotta under-think and post about it. 

Human interactions are the same. To wonder the meaning behind each text has little consequence. People may or may not have hidden meanings behind texts and voice tones on the phone. But until you know there’s a problem, why imagine the possibility of one. Under-think, my friend. Under-think the living daylights of some interactions to counter your over-thinking until you find moderation. A balance between the two.

Under-thinking has been a great addition to my life. I am still learning when to use it and when I actually do need to give a thing some thought. I’m sure I will make mistakes. But that’s alright. 

This post isn’t really as organized as I’d like it to be. But that’s alright. I’m sure you won’t mind ^^

To question or not to question

To question something often comes with negative connotations. In traditional families in my culture, questioning those elder to you was often seen as a sign of great disrespect. Their decisions were to be assumed as correct whether you liked them or not. The head of the family would say something and that was it. Everyone would comply. Sounds a bit like the Godfather, if you ask me.

In the scientific world, to question a theory from all angles and perspectives is the only way of proving its validity. We were taught theorems and formulae that worked no matter what the variables were. On any given day, you could look into the news and you’ll see articles on scientists disproving theories because someone found a new way of looking at it. Pluto just stopped being a planet one day!

But as people just living their regular lives, questioning things can be a mixed bag of implications depending on the subject of your questioning. Asking questions before financial decisions is good, but questioning someone’s intentions can be construed as rude. And we wouldn’t want to be rude, now would we?

As a kid, I remember asking questions like why does the moon follow the car as we drive to store? Why do I feel pins and needles in my feet every once in a while? But as an adult, I sometimes ask myself,

"Why am I doing this?"
"Do I still enjoy reading?"
"Should I have said something?"

These are questions that are easier not to ask. Ignorance is bliss and not brewing such questions over saves us the need to examine things that *should* or *are supposed to* be right. Take me, for instance. I don't read nearly as much as I used to. Am I still an avid reader? That's low fruit on the tree of questions you can ask but I'm not about to get into questioning career and life choices in this post. That's for you to indulge in at your own leisure.

I’ve found that such questions are deeply important. I find myself questioning decisions, relationships, religion and, yes even my desire to read every now and then. And while it sounds like a tiresome existence full of doubts, it’s brings a sense of certainty. It is not a life spent worrying about everything, but rather knowing that should things change, should I change – I will be conscious of it. Because I will ask why today feels different than yesterday. And my answer will provide some semblance of a path ahead.

It is almost a lifestyle – to question things. But, on a more sad note, I have known people who don’t question their behaviours or words. Who go through life not wondering if they might be wrong. Their ignorance is bliss for them alone. For those around them, it is a stark reminder of the cost of not taking a look at yourself and asking a few questions.