Real life doesn't start tomorrow, or on the weekend. It doesn't start when you graduate, or when you land a job, or when you quit your job. It doesn’t start once you get a handle on your anxiety, or fix your sleep schedule, or finish all the tasks in your to-do list.
Real life is made of moments like this. It’s waking up with dread and clutching at your phone for relief. It’s being mildly frustrated at all your friends for the various ways in which they don’t understand you. Real life is wiping the lint from your dryer, it’s scrubbing the same pan clean for the hundredth time, it’s being surprised that even with all the fun of a friday night, you’re just as sad to say goodbye, just as sad as when you were a child.
People will tell you to do different things. Some people will tell you to quit, to take the leap, because life is short. Other people will tell you to keep going, to stay committed, to play the long game. I’m not here to tell you either of these things. I’m asking you to stop imagining that either of these things is the answer, that either option is the thing standing between you and the perfect life you’re imagining for yourself.
We spend most of our time waiting, and very few precious moments feeling like we’ve finally arrived. We defer our willingness to bask in reality to tomorrow, and then the next day, and then the next, until we forget we ever deferred anything. You know that feeling you get when you hear the good news you’ve been waiting for, or when you’re so enthralled in conversation you forget that you haven’t checked your phone for hours, or when the rain has settled and you step into the forest and the freshness of the air wrests your lungs open and everything feels perfectly in place?
What if every experience could be like this? What if every moment could be “complete”? Meditation teacher Shinzen Young said he would rather have a single day of his life as a meditator, having attained what he’s attained, than forty years of ordinary human pleasures.
But what if you don’t need to wait until you’ve meditated for decades, what if you’re closer to that than you think? What if you were more often baffled by the fact that you’re still alive, if you began to ask of this moment, of every moment: what do you have to teach me?
You’re inflight, you’re falling through the sky, everything feels half-complete, there is so much more you meant to do, there are so many things you’re behind on, so many things you haven’t said. I’m right there with you. This is it, the madness we were born into and have no choice but to face. Real life is more and more of this and then it’s over.
I loved this Kasra. The exact idea I’m trying to knead into my inherent state of being.
No waiting, no arrival. This. Is. It.
love this reminder, Kasra! real life happens in the messy action. the decision to send that imperfect email, to ship that nearly perfect essay, to start the hard conversation