I used to think of myself as an incredibly self-aware person. Exhibit A- this blog is testament to my self-righteous pride that, I assure you, was fickle and went right before perceived fall. Let me admit upfront that all that I have claimed thus far is not the case, and what I claim henceforth has similarly poor chances of being anywhere close to objective verity either . I possess none of the wisdom, grace, or wit that I aspired for; and what a superficial aspiration if I have now chosen to desert it! I paused there for a moment you know, debating what the third trait would be: I wondered if I didn’t have the charm I aspired for. No space for doubt there- I’m as charming as I intend to be, and that intention shall continue!
Anywhoo. Today, I was talking to my mother who is ever so wise, and always seems to be talking in riddles- not unlike the sphinx! She said to me that she loves me for my claim to financial independence. But, she felt that I don’t enjoy life as much as I would like to. You see, she sees me for the dreamer that I am. She has noticed that I have a love for aesthetics, travel, books that don’t beat around the bush and go straight to stir your soul into an ethereal swirl, fresh air, and sand in between your toes. I like poetry and art, and the smell of warm food with a dash of freshly-ground spices. I like playing games on the beach, and spotting crabs. I like evening walks with friends, and discovering hidden hideouts. My idea of a great dinner is on a house terrace, being told by neighbours to quiet down. I like trying new food,and widening my perspective to accommodate just one more story. To be honest, I like living life more than making a living. Sure, the latter’s nice and feels rewarding, but I hate even putting it on the pedestal as the former.
And if that wasn’t enough, I watched a movie on a friend’s suggestion: Liberal Arts starring Josh Radnor and Elizabeth Olsen. Here’s a quote from the movie: “Nobody FEELS like an adult. That’s the world’s dirty secret.” Really? Bless you for letting me into that! I’ve been feeling quite handicapped here grappling with all that adult-ness. Hell, that’s why I like art and poetry. You play with words and don’t stick to the rules of grammar, and nobody questions you about it. But if you’re an instructional designer working on a manual on how to use a phone, it doesn’t matter if you got the information across, but God forbid if you jumbled up your tenses. When did we become about the details instead of appreciating them?
Yup, I’m sold on making peace with my, whadya call ’em, imperfections. I might be a mess, but a beautiful one at that fo sho.