Complicating our lives

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As I walked out of my office this evening, I started thinking about how I want to organise my evening once I reach home in order to make the most of my time. I wanted to clearly segregate the time I spent cooking, cleaning up, etc. from the time I spent with Berry. The context switch was so instantaneous, as if I exited one stage and got onto another. Until today, I was never conscious of the many roles I play everyday – mother, wife, employee, daughter, sister, daughter-in-law, blogger, marriage broker auntie, friend, etc. I think it’s so easy to lose oneself while you are too busy playing all these roles that it’s important to be able to distinguish between them very clearly.

For the last two weeks, I have been unable to spend quality time blogging and having left that part of me incredibly dissatisfied, I can feel the pressure trickling down onto other parts of me. So, I try to set little goals for every part of me so each of them try to do their best to inspire the other parts. Okay, I know you think I’m insane now and I don’t blame you because sometimes, I think so myself. I think we are all constantly finding ways to make our lives more meaningful in ways that we feel like we are headed somewhere or are striving to get “better” even though, deep down, we know all of this is quite insignificant in the grander scheme of things (at a multiverse level).

As a child of 8 or 9, I remember lying down on my terrace and looking up at the stars and thinking how insignificant my problems (not studying for the test next day level) in life were. I remember thinking how silly we were to take our stupid little lives so seriously (of course not the fact that we actually had lives), trading happiness and simplicity for drama in the name of “meaning”. It gave me solace to let go, I enjoyed letting myself feel insignificant, yet today, I try to make my life a bit more complicated than it actually is because I want to feel like it’s worth living.

I’ve gone a full cycle in exploring if I’ve aged exponentially or I’m plain depressed to entertain such morbid thoughts ever so often, but I haven’t found any answers yet. The fact is we all eventually die and until then, we want to justify why we haven’t died yet.

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