It’s exhausting telling people my age. Don’t you ever feel that way? Our age defines us in many ways and it is correlated to almost all aspects of who we are. A lot of us don’t like talking about it but we know that as we grow older the expectations people and we ourselves have for ourselves grow higher and higher as well. It is sometimes depressing to think deeper about it. When we were children, we used to dream of how rich, successful, or awesome our lives would be when we grow up but we just never seem to hit our goals. We can either set high goals for ourselves or lower them enough that even when we fail, we will be alright with it. What is the best way to go about life concerning these things?
Should we pressure ourselves into achieving the things we want in hopes that our own lives would feel worthy enough to say that we at least tried or is it better to just go with the flow and be happy with whoever we have become? As I said, it is exhausting to talk about these things. We don’t want to answer these questions and feel better to remain shortsighted and just look at our feet while we walk and not far off into the distance where we want to go. We don’t want to see how close or far our destination is. It’s just safer to look at where we are stepping day by day. At least these short daily steps are ones we can control. Because we are afraid to look up ahead of the road and realize that we are lost, or we are headed in the wrong direction.
We don’t want to realize that where we want to go is an impossible distance for us to reach with our pace and the time we are given. What exactly is wrong with this process? If we all do this, we won’t have to face daily regret, shame, or self-pity. At least, we are satisfied with monitoring our daily footsteps and we can make sure that we are moving closer and closer. Personally, I don’t do this. For years of my life, I have stopped looking at my daily footsteps and instead looked into the impossible destination. At first, I thought that it was okay even if it felt like it was impossible to reach. As long as I run faster than everybody else, as long as I keep my head up while ignoring my daily footsteps, as long as I keep going and going, I’ll get there. And I’ll be there in no time. That was where I made the big mistake. Slowly, I started to realize that I would never reach where I wanted to go. Instead of pushing myself further to go the distance,
I started to lose hope in the journey. Thinking that no matter how hard I’d try, I would never get there, so why try in the first place. It destroyed me and put me in a dark place. I woke up every day thinking, I’ll never be the person I want to be. If only I hadn’t gone this direction or done that before. If only I had this or was this, I would be closer. I blamed myself for everything and sentenced my own judgment on myself. I figured that if all of this was my fault and that it was because of me that I’ll never be who I want to be, then maybe I don’t deserve any of it at all. I don’t deserve a better life. Who was I to want good things, amazing things for myself? It became a daily mental self-flagellation. It blinded me to the actual good things in my daily life. It stopped me from knowing that there are better things right now in my life that I’m taking for granted. And I wish I could have realized it earlier but I’ve only realized it today.
It is that maybe I don’t have to look up ahead, or look at my daily footsteps and avoid the sight of the destination. I realized that what I have should have done was look at the views while on the road. I should have realized how beautiful the sunset was when my grandfather was finishing up cutting some wood in our backyard. I should have savored the sweetness of chicken soup that my grandmother cooked for me to eat on the road. I should have laughed more at the jokes my brothers made to pass the time while we were around the bonfire. I should have realized that the girl I’ve liked since high school that I’ve avoided for years would have become a good friend of mine if only I stopped dreaming of some dulcinea. I wish I could have hugged my parents tighter before I left home to go on my journey. I should, wished, and have realized. It’s never too late for me though. I’m going to be 22 soon. I still have 33, 44, 55, 66, 77, 88, 99. Maybe before I hit the next mark, I’ll look back and say, I’m glad that at 22 I should, wished, and realized. Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have appreciated the beautiful views that life had to offer.
