The (non) instruction manual for living

We are going to track back for a bit to year 2008, the year of the Global Financial Crisis, otherwise known as the GFC. It was also the year that I hit one of the lowest points in my life – if not the lowest point to date. Of course when it was happening, it didn’t feel like it was a low point, it just felt like life, and I was living, and struggling and trying to do the best that I could. But now, in retrospect, yes, it was a low point and fuck, how did I survive that? I did not know, and I still don’t know.

That was the year that I asked so many questions – so many fucking questions that I could not, and still can not, fucking answer. I attributed this to this phenomenon called the quarter life crisis. I mean, when you were young, and you were supposed to live life that was fulfilling and worthwhile, without actually knowing what it looked like, let alone felt like, it was pretty impossible not to get a little depressed. What is this thing called a full, enriching life? And how the fuck do you know when you’ve got one? Navigating your twenties is one ugly beast, because you feel like life, where you are right now, is extremely fucking hard. But you are not allowed to say it as such. You are supposed to make it appear effortless, darling.

In the year 2008, against all odds, and without managing to figure things out, I survived relatively intact. One thing that is for sure though, even when you manage to figure things out, hold down a job and get a house and a life, all of these could be taken away from you in the blink of an eye, because of things that are beyond your control. Even when you have done everything within your power to weather the bad times, it is rare for anyone to escape unscathed. There would be some effects; some of these are deep and lasting, and invisible to the naked eye. So I hated adulthood; growing old is one motherfucking bitch.

But I have never told anyone this, until now.

In fact, I have joined the popular wisdom of getting older: that life gets better. I like to think that this is because I have a terrible memory, but truth is that, I suppress the terrible times, to the point that if I could, I would erase them from my memory. Selective recalling masked as positive thinking. I am all in for being positive and all that jazz, and I remain a big fan until today. And I also believe that it doesn’t hurt to remember the terrible times, even if they only serve as a reminder of how far we’ve become.

The truth about living is that life doesn’t always get better, and it continuously and perpetually takes a lot of hard work. You don’t always have everything figured out, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to not show up, because living is in showing up. You show up every single day even when you feel so tired and you look at the mirror and notice shit, I not only feel old, I also look old. And I feel fat. Shit, am I fat? When did all of these happen?

There is a deep satisfaction in showing up because it often carries with it an element of connection, an element of struggle, and more often than not, it involves other people. There is a deep satisfaction when you demonstrate (through your actions) a willingness to take on someone’s cause as your own, especially when you haven’t found out what your cause is. There is a deep satisfaction in knowing that in showing up, you are actually doing something, no matter how small, that contributes something to lives of the people around us.

There is no instruction manual for living, quite unfortunately. My one and only rule is this thing called flow – there has got to be a flow, you have to stay in motion. Because the alternative, i.e being stagnant, inaction, is never a valid option. Showing up may appear trivial, but the impact on the people that we are interacting with everyday as a result of us showing up is truly profound. Look out for the smile that results from something that you’ve done. You may not find this often, but there is at least one smile amongst all the hustle and bustle of live.

That one smile is never an isolated effect; believe me when I say this, because of two things. First, the multiplier effect, according to which, this one smile will result in a lot more one-smile-s, which will then result in a lot more more one-smile-s. Or in other words, a smile (or happiness) is contagious. Ever had a stranger smile at you and said somewhat randomly, have a good day? And then you end up having a good day? Yeah, something like that. So, smile, and wish someone a good day, even when that person is not a stranger.

Two, even when the outcome that we look for is a smile, there is almost always something else, and these things are often invisible to the naked eye, or often referred to as ‘I am happy when I’ve contributed to your happiness’. Your happiness in this case is another effect of you showing up.

So then, is this the secret to a good life?

Yes and no. This is because it is rare for two variables to perfectly influence each other. In this case, while it is (somewhat) undisputed that the rate of us showing up is positively correlated with our general well being, there is almost always something else that contributes to this relationship. Or that, even when you’ve successfully identified (albeit only statistically) the relationship between two variables, it is very rarely that this correlation is 100%; there is always something else that contributes to the outcome. Sometimes, this ‘something else’ is a combination of insignificant, therefore seemingly irrelevant causes, so we just tend to ignore them. Because we are much better off concentrating on changing the one thing that we believe is going to result in the outcome that we want.  Because limited resources. Because prioritizing. Because laziness.

I know I am guilty of the last one, which is why I still struggle to make sense of things. I have even more questions today about life than I did one year ago. I still get frustrated on a regular basis because I can’t think my way through these things. Because it makes me feel like I am not smart enough. Like I am dumb, or so blind that I can’t even see these answers that I’ve been told can be found inside me.

Maybe, just maybe, this is one of those things that I can’t think my way through. Maybe, what this really means is that I need to just stop trying to make sense of things right now. Maybe, one day, it will all be made clear to me. Maybe I would be able to see things that have been there all along. Or maybe not. Or maybe, it doesn’t matter. Because life still goes on as long as I show up, open my heart and appreciate the things that make me grateful to be alive. Or in other words, give my mind a break, live life right now with all of my heart, and celebrate the little moments that contribute to a much bigger sum.

Happy birthday to me.