The Winter Of Our Discontent

I have had a letter today. From my best friend.
The past months have been eventful for her to say the least. I know because I have been there for parts of it. So while reading her letter I could not help but notice that she sounded wistful. Like she longed for something else than what she had. Like she was desperate to break free.

And here I was all the time thinking that she had it all. Now, I am not so sure.

I am not so sure anymore about anybody whom I labelled successful, settled; anybody that I shoved in to a neat little box of "content" or "happy" or "with kids" or "married".
Because everything is not as it seems. I have noticed this in the past couple of weeks with quite a number of things. However, being me, I am never QUITE aware of this knowledge. At least not in the moments when I should be. It's that hindsight-thing again, you see.

Could it be that whatever happiness is, is defined by other people?
Is that the reason that we are all so miserable? So unhappy with our lot. So very deep in the Winter of our Discontent? I am not speaking of luxury goods and yachts and being spoilt rotten and still complaining whilst there are women, children, and men who do not have enough food to eat, no clothes to wear, no bed, no house to sleep in. That is undeniably happening in our world today but this is not what I am writing about at this precise moment in time, in this post, in this blog, insignificant though it is.

I am speaking of being strangely unhappy and almost cold in the face of the achievements in your own life so far of which you should be proud, which should fill you with joy and happiness, with a sense of self and a knowledge of who you are and what you can do.

My friend's lines saddened me. Because she described what I usually feel... an unwavering longing for something that will finally, finally make the voice in my head stop saying "Right, that's done. What's next!?"
Like a drill sergeant this voice has, I believe, many of us rushing towards the next task, the next hurdle and all the time we are wondering, will I be good enough this time? And then there is always the darker version sounding a little like this: one of these days they are going to call my bluff.

And when I say rushing towards the next task, I do not mean it literally but more often than not life does not have us juggling just one plate. There is never just one other thing that we must do. There are many. We are thrown in at the deep end and have to either sink or swim. And nobody wants to sink. So we struggle and hope it works out. And when it does then there is the next thing to consider and do. And the next and so on and so forth.

I am far away from knowing how to solve this. I am just observing and recording.
But perhaps for the time being that is enough. 

Define Happy Medium Some More

I am not as agitated anymore - it's a day later I've had time to reflect once more. And perhaps I am slow but still here is what I came up with:

It is of course not simply "the others". That would be just another excuse.
A large part of the aforementioned assumptions and expectations is actually grounded within me, too. I doubt myself, I expect more of myself because one part of me feels I should do more with my life. But more what?!?!

Today I had a conversation during the course of which I learned about the parcels we carry around with us - some since generations. Parcels? Read other people's expectations and aspirations. So we carry them despite the fact that they are not even our own. They are essentially baggage slowing us down.
Said parcels are handed down to us by family members and I am sure there are parcels from friends and bosses, too.
Be that as it may, the important thing to remember is that such parcels, such nicely wrapped expectations and hopes, and demands are not our own.
They are hand-me-downs and in the true sense wear-me-downs.
And we keep wondering why the hell we "can't get no satisfaction".
We are not fulfilling our own needs, our own destinies but some other person's instead.
That is like a paint-by-numbers-kit for disappointment, frustration and heartache.

It's strange how this never occured to me, how I never consciously thought about it like that. Or if I have, then I managed to shove into a very tiny box in the very back of my head. See, another parcel...
Now it seems soo obvious. Of course, once more it remains to be seen how I handle this knowledge. Wouldn't it be nice if I could take a closer look at my parcels, maybe even OPEN it and check the INSIDE?

I mean, we're coming up to Christmas, after all...