If all moments in life were treated as that, moments with a start and end date, we would probably seize them with full consciousness, we would clasp onto every bit of emotion, feeling, or thought a given situation inspires in us. We would see the world with wonder, and would rejoice in the goodness and the bad, because we would know they have an expiration date. We are often blind to the wonders that life has to offer, treating the human spectrum of emotions as a most mundane affair. It is only in retrospect that we can look back and see the purpose in the pain, the charisma in the hours spent feeling lost. And then there are days that come and go with stagnancy.
Wake up. Commute. Go to work. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
And then BAM. You open your eyes, hundreds of days later, to find yourself in a different space and time. The scenery of the journey may have seemed abiding, but yet you went from point A to point B, without much realization in the process. However, in hindsight, all feelings and thoughts make sense, and you realize they are the most precious experience. Of course, that only applies for some people. There are others who do everything with intention. They know what they want their path to be, and they get closer to point B with every day that goes by.
I am not one of those people. I navigate through this world a bit blindly, with hedonism being the big picture. The goals I set for myself are small. A trip to plan, another place to have my heart, a book to read, a song to write. I however don’t have a decade-long plan. I’m not sure if it’s a ‘blessing’ or a ‘curse’, but there is something incredibly rewarding in allowing myself to derail. It is infinite freedom. It makes the future exciting with possibilities, with every day a blank canvas with possibility of so many lives! And it makes the past beautiful abstract expressionism left for hours of interpretation and introspection.