I was sitting with a good friend on a busy street last night. Rain was drizzling as we sat beneath the rooftop of a pub, sipping on Blue Moon. ‘The world is so depressing without the internet to distract me from my mind’, I voiced out. I went on about being as lost as ever, after all, it comes and goes in waves. When it comes, that feeling of absolute nothingness overtakes my brain, and everything about this world and life seems insipid. Why bother to love, why bother to try, why bother to be! Without some distractions, it is hard to sit in your overwhelming sense of loneliness. It is hard to acknowledge how greedy your mind is and how you fail to practice gratitude for all the good things in your life and all the choices that led you where you are, and how where you are is exactly where you need to be. Instead, a voice in your head repeats, louder and louder ‘Is this all there is?’
Every now and then in the midst of that darkness and complete loss of purpose and meaning, you find peace in ‘Yes this is all there is.’ It makes you feel, even if for the brief instant of that realisation, that you are not fundamentally flawed, you are not wasting your life away, you are doing exactly what you want to do, but failing to realize it, failing to acknowledge it.
See, when that peace comes in, you suddenly feel filled with the ability to observe and take it all in. The heaviness in your chest dissolves with every conscious glimpse you take on the world: The homeless man on the street stopping you in your train of thought that one rainy evening to tell you Irish jokes in exchange of a pound coin, the dog who decides to make eye contact with you, the way that rain is tapping on the old London streets, the street sign before you, your friend’s philosophies, the French music, the simple fact that this moment is exactly what life is!
You know that a year from now you will remember that moment, and you will remember it fondly. That thought is enough to ease your over-analytical brain into the reality that this is all there is! Life is not some grand scheme of linear progress, it rarely has a purpose. The only coherence that life as we experience it has is found in a series of moments, in human interconnectedness, in the ability to share your neurosis, your banal suffering and your senselessness with another human being.