So I am posting on a Tuesday instead of a Monday but that is because I finally made it to the beach with friends yesterday and the sun, wind, sea and sand were just right.
I have this book that is called The One-Line-A-Day, A Five Year Memory Book. On August 30th, 2015 I wrote: “I have made a decision. I will quit soon and start work with my mother. Leave this wretched city behind”.
A year later, I am working with my mother, I haven’t entirely quit and I haven’t left this wretched city behind either. I am amazed at myself and at others at how fickle our decisions can be. We make a decision with all the confidence in the world, looking hopefully into a non-existent future with glittering stars thinking that we will surely conquer that decision, squeeze it till we drip the last drop of success out of it.
No such thing. Every decision I made, so far, didn’t stick out. Every decision I watched someone I know make, did not stick out. We babble and dream and convince ourselves it would work, but it does not. Why? Discipline. Mostly. We lack discipline, not money, energy or time. Discipline. That one most-pivotal-moment-sort-of-lesson I learnt the hard way working with my mother. Not the most joyful of partnership but one where many hard hard lessons have been laid carefully before me so I can I get to pick and choose which attitude to work with, if I even could.
When I look at the lines upon lines that I have written over the few recent years I feel like I am reading the lines of several different people, each in their unique situation, embodied in one being; dumbfounded, depressed, eager yet willing. Taking a peek into the past on a daily basis is actually a terrifying exercise. So much self-judgment, nostalgia and resentment can arise out of that exercise. Another discipline lost, the discipline to look at the bright side.