#17 Joyful purpose
Growing up, no one told me I should be happy. I always heard I should work hard, treat others well, and save money for the future, but happiness or the joy of living were not even a topic. Everyone was busy with life then, making me now think that stopping and smelling the flowers was considered laziness and almost a sin. Ah, old times, when the things that mattered the most were my grades at school, homework, and be done as soon as possible with the chores at home.
Now, life is a little bit more complicated. I have not only my stuff to worry about but also family and adulthood things to take care of. I remember how much I wanted to grow up to decide what happened in my life and give no explanations to anyone about my reasons, but no one told me that it was difficult, if not impossible. Yes, I can decide, but my choices are rarely related to things that bring me joy. It's more like a social contract between the family and the rest of the world:
I can choose what I eat, as long as I can cook it, the whole family accepts it, and it follows the (good) nutrition guidelines expected of parents of children of school age.
I can choose what to wear, but I have body limitations, social norms, and age restrictions to obey. There are beauty routines I should follow. Still, I've been lazy about those (one more thing I decided?), so I will not even mention why I am not using all the anti-aging products that social media targets for people my age every day.
I can choose what I want to watch on the TV as long as no one else is around. Every day, I have to explain my choices and listen to my children why I should let them play with the Nintendo instead (a direct consequence of another decision: to have only one television at home).
I can go out as much as I want as long as it does not interfere with work or school schedules, I do not leave the kids unattended, and I have the energy to do so—the energy part tends to be my worst enemy.
I can choose my work projects. I spent more than twenty years following other people's instructions before deciding otherwise. According to my mother, that's how life works, but that's one of many things we never agreed on. My decision was related to purpose (to find one) and joy (to retain as much as possible). Everyone speaks about the need to find balance in life, to pursue happiness, and to be our best selves. To me, that seems somewhat reasonable now, but it was not back in the day.
When I started working, I was eager to pull crazy hours in the office, so I reached a point where I had some savings but not time to spend them. Then, I decided I wanted to do more things and have many others. Still, I realized the money I had was not enough (having "good/ expensive taste" sucks sometimes), so I studied and worked more to be able to move to a position that would allow me to have... more. I met my partner and started to share my time. We decided to have our own place and, with it, a mortgage. Shortly after, children arrived, who not only cost us financially but drained any drop of energy we could have after our full-time jobs. I don't think I've surprised anyone with this "Welcome to adulthood" summary because most of my generation underwent similar (if not the same) steps. We did all those things thinking about what we were supposed to do, what we had seen others do, what we wanted. Everything was about the What, sometimes, the How, and never the Why. I don't think I stopped more than ten minutes before my forties to really know why I was waking up every day. Things would probably have been different, although not necessarily better.
I thought I knew why I did the things I do. I had to show I was worthy. I studied and had to secure a good job. Once I had the job, I had to have a good life. I had the partner, the house, the kids, the jobs, the holidays, and even the shoes (if you know me, you know what I mean). I had all those things until the day when the only thing that mattered was to keep on breathing. There is magic in that moment, when you realize that most of those things that bothered you so much mean nothing. Zero.
Nowadays, everybody speaks about mindfulness as if it were as easy as drinking water—by the way, you should drink a lot of water as well—as if everyone could guide the magic ball of light that brings you calm and wisdom without worrying about the barking dogs or a kid playing basket upstairs. We are supposed to walk, meditate, spend time with friends, and have a hobby. We are supposed to keep our brains active, keep on learning, be creative, and enjoy silence. No one has told me yet how to secure the hours to do all that while still sleeping a reasonable number of hours daily.
When I changed jobs, I decided I would not suffer because of failing at all the other things I do or don't. I chose not to blame myself, which I see as a triumph, a major one. I still want to do a million things per day, but I don't let it consume me, not totally. I prefer to say I'm searching for purpose instead of happiness; I can reach joy that way. If that makes me happy, we'll see.
