Dear Life,
It's been somewhat 28 years now that we've stuck together. So, I thought I'd write you a letter - I always seem to write about you, or complain about you, or just bare with you - but this time I'll finally write something just for you. I hope you don't mind.
I admit I don't remember much of you until I was around 6 or so. Obviously you were there but I didn't recognize you. And I'm afraid that back then we only managed to have a few good years until I started hating you. I said some awful things about you, and I'm sorry for that now. I wish you can forgive me. I was not right to say any of those things.
And do you remember when I was hoping, really hoping a few times, that you would simply go away? That I didn't want you anymore? Well I was desperate and out of my senses. I apologize. I simply didn't know how to handle you, how to manage you, how to get along with you. I thought that we were a bad match and that we didn't belong together. I was wrong. I'm glad now that I gave you another chance. You made me believe in yourself again, and somehow you managed to make me believe in myself at the same time.
Thinking back now, I didn't always value you as much as I truly should have. I've mistreated you, neglected you, said foul things about you and pretty much blamed you for everything. It's amazing to realize that regardless of all this you still stay with me. I am doing my very best to reassess you, and my views and opinions about you. And I believe that lately I've fallen back in love with you again - dear, please, I hope it's not too much to say but that's how I feel about you. You're truly remarkable, even with all the confusion and chaos you bring along sometimes. You've taught me a lot. When I think of it now, I wouldn't change a split of a second I've spent with you.
And finally I must admit that the reason I wanted to write this to you was because I heard a rumor that you might actually leave me any moment. You know I'm not a big fan of gossiping and hearsay but I confess that it all got me a bit concerned. We've had our past - some good moments, some bad moments, some transparent moments. But I'd like to believe that our journey together has but begun, and that we have lots of years ahead of us, full of adventure and passion and unexpected things. Hopefully you feel the same way. Every day with you is a small expedition.
If you ever decide to leave me though, I hope you do it in a calm way. Don't make me become afraid of losing you, you know it's a fear I couldn't handle. I don't want to say goodbye to you: I want to show my appreciation towards you by loving you every day like you deserve to be loved. So stick with me. I'll show you I'm worth it. I wouldn't be much of a person without you. Don't give up on me darling.
Ps. My heart tells me to say hi. She can't write but she fully agrees with me.
Forever yours,
Outi
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Courageous cowards
What is that weird illusion we seem to have - that we actually have some control over this life? Do we really, any of us? Where does it come from?
As I ponder on it I realize that this control is often, if not mostly, perceived as concrete things, of course. If you have something, and if you're able to hang on to it, you're in control. Or do these things have control of us instead? It's so easy to be judgmental about people who don't have much; or they haven't achieved much. Everyone does it, myself included.
But then I have to think that perhaps some of us don't need things to prove their life is worth living. Who is anyone else to judge, after all? How could we ever tell what goes on in other people's heads, and how meaningful they see their own lives? A big part of me believes that the people who have no need to prove themselves to others, have truly figured out something valuable about life. Probably they have way more control over their lives than we would even like to admit. They don't seem to be obsessed about achieving or buying or consuming or... Whatever it is that shows our value in today's world.
They're losers, failures, aimless drifters. Nothing to hang on to, nothing to look forward to. No ambitions, thus no expectations. No hope. They are simply too inadequate to keep things, or hold on to one single purpose. Isn't that how we think, even if these are only private thoughts most of the time? Or maybe these people have found some long lost integrity. When did life become so much about what's on the outside anyway? When did the inside seize to matter? Or did it ever matter? Perhaps it's just our human nature - to constantly categorize, evaluate and grade others and put them into tiny little boxes, to make this life and the people in it slightly more comprehensible.
Achievements in today's world don't matter if you don't have a proof of it. Make sure you have something real and concrete to show to the rest of us. Achievements are pointless and cheap unless you have something to show around - don't you try to come and tell us that you've grown as a person, or found some inner peace, or figured out something about life. There are no diplomas for souls, no master's degrees for hearts. You can't take your motherhood for a ride in the neighborhood, nor can you invite people over to your mind to show them how good and forgiving it is. Those things are useless. Achievements without any proof are telling the rest of the world, silently, that you're not in control.
There needs to be a reason for everything. Every day you live should be going towards some clear destination (I'd say it's death for us all, but what do I know). As I agree with that statement I'm finding it harder and harder to believe that this destination is something achievable - or that it even should be. Maybe I'm starting to believe that life without any obvious purpose is the best one you could have. Isn't that how you'd be able to live as you're supposed to? Carpe diem, anyone? We say it all the time but only a handful of us is able to even try that. And then, I fear, we realize it all too late and find out our lives were utterly spent on secondary things and the real part of it has slipped away from our reach years ago.
I also believe that enhancement, improvement and some kind of personal evolution seems to be a very human trait, a normal way of living. I would think it's one of the most appreciated things life has; the fact that it constantly changes and mutates. But for me, and maybe for some other people as well, life has never shown itself as a race or a display. I'm not traveling through it to show others what I've got, and how much I've got, and how fast I got it all. Smells like naive idealism, but to be honest, I kind of like that smell. And in the end... who are the real cowards? The ones who close their eyes from now or the ones who live in the now? I'm not sure I know the answer, but I'm curious to try to find it.
As I ponder on it I realize that this control is often, if not mostly, perceived as concrete things, of course. If you have something, and if you're able to hang on to it, you're in control. Or do these things have control of us instead? It's so easy to be judgmental about people who don't have much; or they haven't achieved much. Everyone does it, myself included.
But then I have to think that perhaps some of us don't need things to prove their life is worth living. Who is anyone else to judge, after all? How could we ever tell what goes on in other people's heads, and how meaningful they see their own lives? A big part of me believes that the people who have no need to prove themselves to others, have truly figured out something valuable about life. Probably they have way more control over their lives than we would even like to admit. They don't seem to be obsessed about achieving or buying or consuming or... Whatever it is that shows our value in today's world.
They're losers, failures, aimless drifters. Nothing to hang on to, nothing to look forward to. No ambitions, thus no expectations. No hope. They are simply too inadequate to keep things, or hold on to one single purpose. Isn't that how we think, even if these are only private thoughts most of the time? Or maybe these people have found some long lost integrity. When did life become so much about what's on the outside anyway? When did the inside seize to matter? Or did it ever matter? Perhaps it's just our human nature - to constantly categorize, evaluate and grade others and put them into tiny little boxes, to make this life and the people in it slightly more comprehensible.
Achievements in today's world don't matter if you don't have a proof of it. Make sure you have something real and concrete to show to the rest of us. Achievements are pointless and cheap unless you have something to show around - don't you try to come and tell us that you've grown as a person, or found some inner peace, or figured out something about life. There are no diplomas for souls, no master's degrees for hearts. You can't take your motherhood for a ride in the neighborhood, nor can you invite people over to your mind to show them how good and forgiving it is. Those things are useless. Achievements without any proof are telling the rest of the world, silently, that you're not in control.
There needs to be a reason for everything. Every day you live should be going towards some clear destination (I'd say it's death for us all, but what do I know). As I agree with that statement I'm finding it harder and harder to believe that this destination is something achievable - or that it even should be. Maybe I'm starting to believe that life without any obvious purpose is the best one you could have. Isn't that how you'd be able to live as you're supposed to? Carpe diem, anyone? We say it all the time but only a handful of us is able to even try that. And then, I fear, we realize it all too late and find out our lives were utterly spent on secondary things and the real part of it has slipped away from our reach years ago.
I also believe that enhancement, improvement and some kind of personal evolution seems to be a very human trait, a normal way of living. I would think it's one of the most appreciated things life has; the fact that it constantly changes and mutates. But for me, and maybe for some other people as well, life has never shown itself as a race or a display. I'm not traveling through it to show others what I've got, and how much I've got, and how fast I got it all. Smells like naive idealism, but to be honest, I kind of like that smell. And in the end... who are the real cowards? The ones who close their eyes from now or the ones who live in the now? I'm not sure I know the answer, but I'm curious to try to find it.
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