This week I don’t know what to write about. I’m finding less meaning in everyday encounters and feeling both relieved and scared of that. It’s been a part of my identity to be “deep.” Christian college currency is over sharing over coffee and giving testimonies (stories of how you became a Christian-the more traumatic the better) to large groups of people. I got a lot of ethos for my parents’ traumatic divorce. But as I get older, I find myself realizing we’re all just humans and we’re all fucked up and maybe it all means nothing. I always wonder how people so confidently say things like “I’m cutting out toxic people in 2021,” as if they aren’t a slightly toxic person to all their close friends. We’re all toxic and we’re all healthy and we’re all ugly and we’re all hot, ya know?
I might disown this in a week but I’m really wondering, “What if I’m bad and good and that’s good?” “What if the white, earless cat is just an animal?” “What if I’m growing at an appropriate rate?” “What if all my friendships are great?” “What if there’s nothing to change?”
It feels good to see less meaning in the small things. I feel more like myself. I let things slide. I don’t let my own brain scare me. I take really long walks that usually end in an overall feeling of contentment. If none of it means that much, my life will fall into place without me beating my brain looking for the corner pieces.
Right now my life could feel like it’s in shambles. There’s no path for me to follow, no career to let guide me. For the first (well, second but who is keeping track?) time in my adult life my career isn’t cradling me with two checks a month and health insurance that medicates me. But what if it doesn’t mean anything? What if my life is good and bad and that’s good? Is it deistic to say it’s all going to work out and maybe it’s not? Who’s to care either way?
I’ve spent so much of my life planning and anticipating to save myself from the anxiety and disappointment that comes with living that I’ve missed out on so many of the sunny days and soft moments. Taking the meaning out of everything is letting me live.
As usual, you put words to something I have been feeling pretty heavily this week, Alex. My days have been pretty much the same lately: wake up, work, make dinner, watch TV, sleep. The other night I felt the need to journal and reflect on my ~feelings~ but the truth is, I’m just vibing rn. And that’s okay. I don’t have to make meaning or create a narrative out of something because I’m bored. It’s refreshing to look at life that way sometimes.
This hit me pretty hard. I've also been noticing how I make meaning and it stops me from living my life. I think it's a by-product of growing up in a religious home. I'm glad I'm not alone in it lol. The other day I had this weird thought of like, "What if I stopped caring about what people thought of me? But wait....what if I stopped caring about....EVERYTHING??!?!" And of course I won't actually stop caring about everything, but that little thought experiment reminded me how meaningless things are (which is OK) and that I can choose my own life. Thank you for sharing this!