At some point we’ve all scratched our heads in confusion wondering what the point of it all is. The point of life. The point of struggle. The point of anything at all.
The Enlightened among us figure it out early; the rest of us careen through life like out-of-control bumper cars. The assumption is that we’ll eventually figure it out, right? That’s the eternal unanswered question, isn’t it? It’s a safe assumption that we’re all winging it.
After another few setbacks this week, it feels like life is hanging off a very short rope and secretly I hope the rope snaps, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos. As I’ve mentioned before, tying myself to one place was never been on the list of things to do, and for 40 years it’s been mission accomplished. Since abruptly changing direction and doing the one thing I said I’d never do, life has been total mayhem. It’s been chaos, wrapped in mayhem, sprinkled with carnage.
The socially accepted standardized map for living is find a partner, get hitched, buy a house with a picket fence (or a McMansion, whatever floats your boat) and sprout out a few kids. Maybe throw in a dog/cat/goldfish/parrot. That’s the map I’ve measured myself against since I’ve been old enough to vote and have fallen short in every single category. I haven’t done a single thing on that map and have judged myself a failure as a woman because of it. I’ve never measured up to the ‘successful’ siblings in the family.
So I spontaneously went against every instinct and let me tell ya, life has kneed me in the bollocks constantly since I did. It made me realize something on the train home today. No-one knows you better than you do. If your life path deviates from the standardized map that society uses to judge your worth, THEN LET IT. You don’t need to justify your life choices and your version of happiness to anyone. Stop trying to live up to someone else’s picture of what being a well-adjusted adult should look like. If your gut instinct is screaming NO, then for the love of God, LISTEN!
I had more than one moment of wanting to walk away from the purchase of this house; instead I went through with it, putting the feeling down to the stress involved in buying a house. Life has always been about having freedom; the freedom to travel; the freedom to move at a moment’s notice; the freedom of having no-one to answer to by myself. I spent too long feeling caged by life and from the minute I tasted freedom, I’ve never let it go. Until now.
The cage door has closed and regret is the lock on the door. There’s no inspiration to write; no urge to create; no joy in hobbies because every iota of energy is being sapped by stress. Fleeting moments of contentment in the garden are paid for with a pound of stress brought on by the responsibility of a mortgage.
It’s been a lot of years since I’ve wanted to run up the white flag on my life and just call it a day. Ignoring the one thing I know about myself and flying in the opposite direction will go down as my biggest regret. Every setback makes the dream of going home seem impossible. In a stupid attempt to have a place to call home, I have a house, while home is an ocean and 3,700 miles away.
Anyone have any useful tips on how to just close the door and walk off the grid? Just a backpack & a destination and let the world deal with what’s left. Just an occasional postcard, with an obscure postmark, letting them know I’m still alive.
Maybe that’s my road to Enlightenment. Maybe mental suffering is more closely linked to the physical things we tie ourselves to, rather than the physical things we can live without. More stuff = less freedom and in the end, the only thing that will leave this world with you is your soul, with all of its memories. The stuff won’t matter. It never did. Lesson learned and now the tedious process of divesting myself of the anchor I’ve tied to myself. There has to be a way to flip the switch from bad to good, because if I don’t, the spiral into chaos will not end. God…… this might take a while & a significant amount of scotch.
May the odds be ever in our favour.
