Month: April 2020

I’ve told myself this often throughout my life. I’ll get promoted, and then I’ll be happy. I just need to get more money, and then I’ll be happy. I’ll retire, and then I’ll be happy. To be sure, some of these things have brought me joy. But never in the amount that I’d hoped. Whenever I’d accomplish one of my big goals, I wanted to revel in the success for years. I wanted the joy of success to last, but it quickly faded into normalcy. When I compare the amount of time I spent working towards my major goals, to the amount of time I spent enjoying them, each victory feels overpriced instead of satisfying.

Then what causes me to be happy?

If I had a better grasp of that, couldn’t I find an easier way to achieve it? Looking back, I tend to be happy when I’m focused and working towards a specific, meaningful goal with people that I’m close to. I also need to be free from worry, and boredom. Whenever these conditions are met, I am happy. But that leaves a lot of open questions. What makes a goal meaningful? And how do I keep myself free of worry or monotony?

What makes a goal meaningful?

There is no objective criteria for determining what is meaningful. Things that are meaningful to me, might be drudgery for someone else. Since goals are intrinsic, they are meaningful if I feel that they are worthwhile. I need to believe that I’m working towards something that will be worth all of the effort that I’m putting into it. And how do I convince myself that something is meaningful (or not)? It depends on what I say to myself about the task. What benefits will I, or others get from it? Does is server a greater purpose?

What causes worry?

A situation that causes one person to worry, might not affect me. In school, whenever I took a test, some people would be nervous, but not me. However, when we got our scores back, I would be tense and jittery, while others were relaxed (or resigned). What was the difference? Worry is mulling the consequences of failure over and over. I can free myself from it, by telling myself that it’s ok to fail, and that I can weather the consequences of failure.

What makes a task boring?

What makes a task boring? I’ve played video games, and enjoyed them. The actions that I took for each level were remarkably similar to the last. And yet, I did not find them monotonous. Why was that? There were relatively minor changes between each level. But I noticed them, and marked the progress between each one keenly. So, a task is monotonous if I tell myself that I’m doing the same thing over and over, instead of noticing the differences between tasks and the progress that I’m making.

What about you?

My happiness is derived from what I tell myself. What do you need to be happy? What are you telling yourself?

I want to have more freedom. Specifically, I’d like to exercise more control over my time. I spend a lot of time working. It’s… fine. Honestly, it’s pretty great. I’m treated well. Paid well. I have smart, kind, helpful coworkers. Yet, I want more. I want to learn more. And to do other things. I want to write. I want to create things. Will I enjoy those other things? Maybe. Maybe not. But I want to find out.

Why is it hard?

This is a very important question. Why haven’t I done this already?

I could stop working now and make some slight cuts to my spending. Or take a very long break. But I have a great job, and I’m so close to being able to retire. I can measure this in months, instead of years. So I don’t think it makes sense to leave now. Given more time, this will work itself out.

Or will it?

Fear. This is a much harder problem to solve. I’m not sure any amount of money would make me feel comfortable. And that’s okay. Because that’s not what money is for. It buys things. Nothing more. Money is merely a convenient focus for the morass of uncertainty.

What if I get lonely?

How will I meet people?

What if I want to spend more?

What if I have to go back to work?
What if I can’t find a job?

What if the book I’m writing fails?

What if no one visits my blog?

What if I’m just using work as an excuse? I can change the way I’m handling things right now. But I haven’t yet. Is work just an excuse to relieve myself of responsibility?

Why do I think this change is worthwhile?

What makes me think that I will enjoy my new found freedom over my existing comfort? With freedom, I could change things if I wasn’t enjoying them. With my current job, my time is tightly constrained, but my finances are not. I think that how I spend my time is much more important than the things that surround me.

Can you claim any of the worthwhile parts now?

Instead of waiting for everything to fall into place what parts can you grasp now? I can take more control over my time at work. I can select projects that bring my more joy, or sample some of the hobbies that I plan on picking up. Instead of waiting for everything to happen exactly the way I want it to, I can pull in bits and pieces into my life right now.

What about you?

What important goals do you have? What changes have you been meaning to make in your life?

Every second, I become one second older. Every day, I become one day older. Every year, I become one year older. This trend has been holding for several decades. And I took little notice of it.

Suddenly, I started to. I watched each second tick by. And I hated it, because that second was not ten. Because it was not a hundred. Because each second that passed by was one I no longer had.

I simmered in discontent. Until I asked myself why? Why does this hurt now when it did not before?

Time had not changed. It flowed by much as before. My body had changed little. I could still do the things that I desired. My mind had changed. I started looking time differently. So I asked myself, how did I think about time?

Time is not a possession. But I wanted to pretend that it was. I wanted to gather it. I wanted to horde it. I wanted to purchase more of it. And this was the problem.

Time is not a possession. It is the measure of experiences. Of new things explored. Of moments cherished. And this was the problem.

Time is not a possession. And yet, I’d traded it for experiences. For that is what we must do, every moment, every day. But I’d shortchanged myself. And this was the solution.

I did not need more time. I did not need more experiences. I merely needed better ones.

There are billions of people in the world. Stop for a moment. Let that sink in. You’ll never meet all of them. You’ll never talk to all of them. There are millions of friends out there that you’ll never make. Hundreds of thousands of people are born each day. So each day you’ll fall farther behind. Hundreds of thousands of people die each day. So each day you’ll lose this chance.

There are millions of things that you’ll never do. Games you’ll never play. Books that you’ll never read. Shows you’ll never watch. Millions of games are played each day. Thousands of books are written each day. Hundreds of shows are made each season.

There are thousands of cities. Hundreds of countries. They are not static. They are not waiting for you. Every day, they move onwards. And every day, you lose these experiences. Forever.

You are missing out.

Fear is the anticipation of loss. There is nothing to fear, because you have already lost. There is no way to capture everything that the world is doing.

So, what are you afraid of?