Christmas Cheers. New Years fears.
Q1. If I’ve been alive for 35 years and I have 2 kids and 1 husband. Numerous jobs over a dozen dreams and a million and one aspirations. What number do I get for my own happiness?
The pressures of being accomplished in life are fraught nearly from the very minute we are born.
From the perfect baby photo, to milestones in our education, to our excellence and awards in extracurricular hobbies. We are taught a way of life where we are constantly striving to achieve, something.
The pressures of childhood don’t really ever diminish. We are what we are taught. As we grow we take the responsibility on ourselves to do the measuring, and as we become adults we face (quite rightly) our own responsibility for our direction in life.
The ideals that we should know what we want to do and who we are, along with what we are going to achieve and what we want our lives to stand for, can be utterly suffocating. Exhausting even the strongest of characters. So it’s no surprise so many of us struggle with our mental health and that horrible feeling; I’m failing at life.
And instead of shunning these feelings like they deserve, when they push their way to the forefront of our brains and wellbeing, we let the world around us force us to celebrate them. Maybe no more so than as midnight falls on the 31st of December. We are fresh out of the enjoyable (but often very stressful) achievements of Christmas, and instead of resting and repairing ourselves, we grab hold of the ultimate existential load and pull it right on top of us;
What are we doing in life?
What can we do better?
What did we fail at last year and what can be a ‘resolution’ to ourselves that we aren’t going to do again?
Or we set goals, end goals for completion in the year ahead. Instead of breaking down our goal into realistic achievements, we put all bets on the finished article. We are telling ourselves, it’s all or nothing.
Remember maths in school? The teacher wanted us to show our workings out when we answered a question, not just the right answer. I always used to struggle with that. My quick as lightening brain would get the answer without any care of how or why I got to it. I had the answer and that’s what mattered, right? But my teacher always wanted it spelled out, piece by piece, move by move and that’s where I always struggled. I think that maths lesson is more important than I ever gave it credit for.
I’m now at the very adult-sounding age of 35, but I’m still sitting here scratching my head at how to achieve in life, what to achieve and work for and how to be the best me. I am still learning who I am, and I am now convinced that this feeling is going to remain with me for life. It’s me. That’s who I am.
Maybe for some of us, we are blessed to know one thing for sure, like what we are put on the planet to do, a vocation, or a career or bringing up our wonderful children or something else entirely, but even then we still find other things a strain. Maybe some of us need a little more time and exploration into the method before we come up with a choice, or maybe some of us are just here to live the method. The result is in the madness, not the fallout.
But I am convinced that life must be in the workings out. Just like the maths problem that required more than just the answer. Hell, the workings out were even awarded more points on those maths tests than the answer on it’s own. They’re WORTH MORE.
So where does that leave me right now? Quite frankly, I have no freaking clue, but onwards is a good place to start.
2019, I have no idea what you will hold for me but I promise to not force you to an answer before you are ready. I resolve to you that I will accept the unknown and take time to show my workings. I might not know where you will finish, but I’m ready to find out where you begin.
Hello 2019. 👋🏻