The other day, a good friend and I were just reminiscing the past and lamenting how life has changed. How come we don’t write about our days anymore? Once upon a time our younger selves were so carefree and stupidly optimistic. And being happy & contented didn’t use to take as much effort.
Growing up is a strange thing. When we were younger we couldn’t wait to break away from the little safe bubble which contained us (school, dorm, exams to sit for & school fees to pay). It seemed imperative that as soon as we were out, like little turtle hatchlings venturing out to the sea, we would switch to “acquisition mode”. A good job, money, a house, a stable relationship/marriage.
So a force bigger than ourselves set things in motion and off we went. The world was ours for taking, and wider and wider we spread our arms. It seemed a given that as these things come, security and happiness would follow.
But as it turned out, we are still none the wiser.
You grow up and then you have a different set of problems.
We discover that we are actually capable people, the world is our oyster. We travel the world, we meet even more capable people (and also discover that stupidity is underrated). We see the world in a different light now. Ten different dimensions we didn’t fathom before, certainly not when we were innocent college kids trying to get by. And then everything become complex. The more we know, the more amplified our inadequacies become.
The world demands from us, and we demand right back.
This post has no conclusion. So where do we go from here?
I am homesick for a place that i’m not sure even exists. A place where the heart is full and I am understood.