I really do not want to write about the age-old search for meaning in life, but it has been on my mind a lot these days. Not because I’m distraught about it, or feel the need to figure it out or find an answer, but because at the moment, the daily tasks that take up my time seem almost… shallow… and pointless. And, being the over-analytical, introspective young woman I am, I can’t help but wonder if there is really a point to any of it. Is it all just about the experience?
One of the many lovely aspects of traveling and working overseas is that you are able to dismiss any social pressure regarding the life you live. No one ever says anything bad about choosing to travel. And you can always justify your irresponsible actions by telling yourself that once you get home you can address all the mistakes you made, thus pretending your traveling lifestyle is essentially pressing pause on the life you have back home. This isn’t truth, yet I still haven’t kicked this mindset. Now that I am home, I feel I need to start being wholly responsible and addressing the goals and social expectations that I think I should meet in my life. But I don’t want to…
I don’t agree with most of these standards and goals that I let society inflict on me. I’m speaking of the desire to hold status, to be wealthy, to be stable, to respect the unwritten hierarchy, to use actions to create an outcome rather than let your genuine actions develop a natural outcome (thus, my Without Plan Without Fail motto). However, those are all topics for another blog. To be honest, I don’t agree with many of the North American social behaviours that I must abide by to participate in our culture. I think this officially makes me a misfit in my own home.
Therefore, all this recent talk (a.k.a., rambling bullshit) about what my current goals are in life regarding getting a career job, my own apartment and a dog feels quite shallow - because it isn’t really what I want to be doing. I’m interested in it all, but I essentially feel like I have just brainstormed a list of experiences I want to have that somehow compromises with our social/ cultural standards on how one should live their life just so I can justify my actions despite their lack of meaning. And then I realized that these things were essentially my way of not hating life while I kill time until I die… slightly depressing, no?
Being an individual who doesn’t have one particular passion that I want to devote my life to, or a massive goal that I really want to achieve in life, makes it difficult to decide what to do with myself. I’m interested in everything; I want to try everything; I want to experience as much as I can; I want to have as many different connections with people and places and things as I can during my short time on this planet. And I want to create good and peace in as many little ways possible. And if all those things combined is what motivates me to get out of bed everyday and puts a smile on my face, than I should be able to find meaning in almost any lifestyle I’m facing. And if that is truth, than I say, “screw stability!” My passions are taking me on a wild goose chase around the globe. Again.