It seems that over-analyzing things is engrained in my DNA. Unless I have shredded every event down by every possible consequence, perspective and opinion within the entire gamut, I cannot rest in peace. That whole let-it-be thing? Could never do it very well, and don’t pretend I can now, either.
So this weird restlessness within that I’ve carried around with me for so long now, quite naturally has been psycho-analyzed, over-thought, disintegrated and dissected beyond recognition. So much so that I have gotten ahead of myself, jumped the gun, and reached a point that could very well be my near future. Also, I have forgotten where I started, but I have a feeling the restlessness has comfortably morphed into a nice stiff boredom. But this is probably no surprise to those who follow all the rubbish I spew here.
All I know is that for a while now I have had this feeling that my life is teetering on the threshold, but I’m not quite sure what’s on the other side. Like I’m slowly outgrowing the present and desperately in need of some freshness, which seems like it is across this imaginary wall between me and what lies ahead.
This what’s-next thought has been nagging me for days now. But don’t get me wrong. This is not another my-life-sucks rant, because let me be honest, my life doesn’t suck. Work is moving swimmingly along. Weekends are spent in a happy state of mind, doing all the things I love. Holidays are being planned for the near future. Apart from the inability to exercise, I don’t really have much to complain about. But (isn’t there always a but?) there’s this restlessness — I just can’t put a finger on it.
It’s like I want to be in this time and place, but with a few changes to suit my need. And that of course that would then be called a fairytale, and not life as most of us know it. And it got me thinking about how many times I’ve faced a similar restlessness. I’m the most easily dissatisfied and restless person I know. I’m thankful for what I have, but I also do not settle very easily. My life is a constant balancing act of fulfilling one need after another. When one thing is sorted, a restlessness of another kind bubbles beneath. But I’m really beginning to wonder if this is just endemic to our generation? Are we just so easily dissatisfied with things that we reach a point where nothing is really ever enough? Or are we just reveling in the sheer abundance of options we have before us, at any given point of time?
I think about my parents’ generation. Or my grandparents. Everyone was either a doctor, engineer or a teacher (or struggling musicians if you were my grandparents. But they’re a class apart so I’m conveniently not counting them) and life just went on with a singular focus. Not too many high and lows, just going on, doing the same thing for years on end, retiring one day and having that pension you can count on. Our lives couldn’t have been more different. We just have so many more choices, things to love, do, hop skip and flit through and our lives are a long chain of inconsistency. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. I know some people who measure happiness in the satisfaction of the growing paycheck. I know some others who are blissed out by dedicating their lives to their children. Some others find joy in doing multiple things, juggling and mastering them all with equal finesse. And then there’s people like me. We just cannot rest easy. The minute something gets comfortable and easy and habitual, I’m ready to move on to the next thing.
I think I’m back at that point. Yet, I have never felt this kind of angst, like I am now. It’s nothing like the shaky feet I had when I was hopping jobs. Or the uncertainty of finding the ground beneath, professionally. It’s nothing like the butterflies in my stomach before I decided to marry the husband. Nope, it doesn’t even feel like the speculation about moving cities. And even the unpredictable phase of unemployment feels tame in comparison. It feels nothing like anything I’ve felt before. I’m slightly scared because from where I’m looking at it, there are a lot of ifs and buts. I’m afraid to go all out and dream big. And this morning, Pinterest did that weird thing again. Where of the bazillion pins, it somehow throws up exactly what I need to see:
Weirdly though, this time its an emptiness that has come with a tough decision. And filling it, might take a compromise. I think.