I've heard many a time before that life is simply a series of downers interrupted by temporary flights of euphoria. The plight of the human is to suffer through life and never be satisfied by reward or virtue. Others say that those who give up and choose apathy are the true winners, as they have nothing to expect but hardship and dissatisfaction. Instead, by keeping their expectations as low as possible and never putting themselves out where they may get burned, they attain happiness by proxy. These people are called Buddhists. Lucky bastards.
While they may be enlightened and be the only ones really having a good time in this world, the rest of us out here have been told from inception that we need to "keep on trying, that our goals are just around the bend." We get constant reinforcement that what we really want can be achieved by daily struggle and strife, that if we work really, really hard, some time in the next 55-75 (over medicated) years, we will be able to kick back and relax after a job well down. Well, forget that.
I want to relax now!
I want to retire and drink iced tea with my aging spouse and play golf and drive an RV and drink glucosimine elixir and get 10% off of everything.
I want it now, because I know my hyper-sensitive and over-achieving generation is going to abolish retirement entirely before I get a chance to enjoy it. Whereas in the past, when people slaved unquestionably and came home at five and put away for that "sweet exhalation" after years of monotonous labor, my "millennial" brothers and sisters hold themselves in too high esteem for such trifles.
Having been told we're special and unique and pretty and the best our entire lives, we in turn place huge expectations on our super-capable selves that every single one of us will grow up to be Richard Branson or Oprah or Steve Jobs or Che Guevera. This is producing a generation of kids who grow up and hit the 'oh....' point of realisation, as in the point where they realize that those special individuals whom they've idolized their entire adolescent lives are more or less lucky and well-published versions of themselves.
Guess what: famous rocket scientist actor director Presidents still go Number Two.
This comes as something of a blow to those who earned all the merit badges and got the golden torch on their diploma for Honors, desperately in hope of scarfing down a piece of the pie of success and adoration. When the bar is set so high from such an early age, one has only down to fall when they don't quite make it over. Then begins a hasty process of reflecting on all they've missed out on while studying and schmoozing, feeling resentful of their Quaker-esque treatment of life's little pleasantries. It's tough when one attempts to backpack around the world while doing a keg stand in their Americore uniform, ya know?
Okay, okay, I realize this is all quite depressing and whathaveyou, but think about it this way: I find myself concerned about whether or not I'll ever be able to achieve a sense of satisfaction. What if I find myself sitting there, at age 67 or something, sitting on my porch, sipping coffee in the morning air, and rather than admiring the gentle dancing of the lime tree in the neighbor's yard, I frown at the lack of things I have accomplished that particular day.
I just find it hard to think that one day I will ponder to myself, "Well, now I don't really need to do anything else for the rest of my entire life."
What?! That sounds so wonderful! Why can't I have that now?
That is why I have set out to be sure the status quo of old-person-laziness is not f'd with for the duration of my time here on the surface of the Earth. I will slave my ass off for an undetermined amount of time and will not rest until I am sure that I can, in fact, rest, undeterred by want or distraction. The right of those to read from dawn to dusk, knit, drink iced tea and black coffee, listen to vinyl and NPR, take walks and nap at any time must be kept firm in the public consciousness.
But most of all, I will work my darnedest to be sure, that, regardless of the numerous opportunities I don't take or moments I blow or projects I almost finish or jobs I don't get or actions I regret, I will be satisfied. Because what is satisfaction for us modern day humans, if not the constant pursuit of new and wonderful things? Perhaps satisfaction is not the conclusion of a task or the triumph of completion, but actually the continued investigation of ourselves and the world in which we currently exist. It seems that the 'secret' is never actually reaching any sort of peak or pinnacle, but rather continually sallying forth into the next possible blunder or boon.
A solution that both contradicts and solves the problem? I'll take that! Go America! In your face, Buddha! Us overworked Occidentals can reach enlightenment, too, we just have to hate ourselves for a little while first! Boom shakka lakka!
