Celebrated my friends’ graduations from nursing school yesterday.
Those are the types of things that are hard to take part in when your schedule is so tight.
And I almost missed celebrating with them at night because I was originally planning to go to soccer practice, but I opted not to because I felt it’d be more worth my time to celebrate with my friends than to train for soccer, which I no longer aspire to play professionally.
And I think I was right for doing this, because I had a good time and had some good talks with some good people, and I didn’t get too drunk.
I woke up today, yet again, feeling quite well mentally, for I have no obligations, not really, at least, and can do whatever the hell I want with my time.
I thought about this today on my way to the cafe: that freedom is more of a burden for some people.
Because when they are free, they don’t give their time to fulfilling endeavors but to impulsive ones (which ultimately drain them) and become more of a slave to whatever vices have hold of them.
And so, they inevitably endure these feelings of despair because they have not cultivated a purpose, or something greater than them.
I think that’s where despair comes from. In a way, it’s this sense that there’s nothing greater out there. That everything that you could be or experience has passed.
But mustn’t we be content in the moment? With what we already have? Perhaps despair is actually the inability to appreciate what lies before you.
And while it is true that you must go through the process of being lost in order to be found, the truth is that most get off the bus when they’re in hell.
Because they simply do not wield the patience it takes in order to be found, and so prematurely thrust themselves into the ease of pleasures.
I know it is not easy to endure this process. I know there is nothing guaranteed on the other side of the plunge.
But I also know that nothing is guaranteed in any endeavor, and to say because something isn’t guaranteed that it’s not worth pursuing is a fallacy . . .
In fact, it is true that if something is guaranteed, it is hardly worth pursuing other than for the sheer sake of absolute survival.
I aspire to get closer to the good life. That is, the life of no pressure.
Relinquishing pressure is a complicated thing because they say it all lies within, and this simply isn’t the case.
Of course, it is true that a father could indeed simply stop caring for his children or that an entrepreneur could stop caring for his business, but in reality, this behavior is impractical and quite simply worrying, as it would imply something is wrong—that either the individual has realized some sort of terminality, or that he has lost touch with reality.
And no matter how peaceful and carefree you become, only dealing with and taking action on these pressures will eradicate them.
No amount of meditation will resolve the fact that your family needs food.
Humans, indeed, are social creatures, and even more corporeal . . . To say we may relinquish all worldly burdens is an inflation of the ego—a consideration that oneself is greater than the rest.
So the good life is, yes, an internal endeavor, but it is also external. In the sense that objective measures can be taken to minimize and eradicate these pressures and burdens we unnecessarily place on ourselves.
And so this is the journey I’m on:
Relinquishing and resolving pressures so I may live more freely. It is the reason I’m getting a van; it is the reason I’m working to build myself as a writer; it is the reason I work daily to shrink my to-do list.
Discipline = freedom.
You could say, too, that I’m just running away from my problems, which I truly am, but I think this is less of the fact that I’m running away from all problems and more that I’m running towards self-selected problems.
In other words, just because something that’s a pain in the ass is normal doesn’t mean we must choose that path.
Just because most people tire through a job for the majority of their lives doesn’t mean I must. Just because most people buy homes with more space than they need doesn’t mean I have to . . .
And, of course, I’m always paying attention to ways I could be more peaceful within; I do try to recognize when I could approach situations better or perceive them more clearly.
I still do have many things with which I am not mature.
And I guess I’m sort of okay with this because it means I am not yet an old man, and there is still room for growth.
The great thing about youth is that there’s always so much potential.
But this potential, due to the inexperience of youth, is often dealt with poorly.
That is why they say youth is wasted on the young.
As you get older, life, for the most part—I’d say life in the subjective experience—becomes more peaceful, not because less crazy shit is going on, but because you get better at dealing with all the crazy shit and letting go of the stuff that doesn’t matter.
I’d say, actually, that more crazy shit goes on the older you get because you have more responsibilities, but this matters not because you come to see that
“All adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.”
And so what was once turmoil is now an expedition.
But still, even with all their experience, many adults fail to see what life is truly about.
These people, despite the wisdom life has tried to imbue upon them, are shortsighted . . . They can’t see past these anchors they tie themselves down with.