Over 600 days now, and on Feb 17th, I had told you I wouldn't let it stop me from living life. Well, to be fully honest, it didn't work out like I planned.
Ah, planning. What a gruesome and evil task. Plans are usually made targeting a projected outcome. That's the most fickle part about plans - the outcome. They seldom reflect the robustness of plans.
With varying factors, most of which are out of reach and unpredictable, acute adaptation becomes a must. Sometime, however, the very fundamental foundations of plans are shaken till they crumble to dust.
Today, my shrink asked me why I felt like I had no hobbies. Hobbies? Activities done for pleasure, usually during leisure time?
If I go by definition, the only hobbies I have is being productive and developing myself. That is what I always derived pleasure from, and that even encompassed my leisure time. Be it learning digital art, learning video editing, travelling to learn about cultures, or whatsoever it may have been, has always been about challenging and bettering myself. The only "hobbies", in the most traditional sense, must have been watching movies, animations, and listening to music.
Learning a new skill, developing a new talent, exploring a new activity, they all overlap in the centre of a venn diagram with two circles, labelled pleasure and work. Don't they say when you love what you do, it stops becoming work?
As time progresses, we all take different paths in life, hoping to reach the place we have planned for. For all of my adult life, I only walked the road of career, business, education, and retiring my parents - to eventually lead me to semi-retirement as soon as possible.
I probably would have made it far in this track if it weren't for the massive, offensive wrench thrown into my plans. It has turned me into a headless chicken, with no living plan to rely on, and aimlessly looking for the control of my own life that I always depended on.
It is safe to say I'm always putting my ownself in a limiting cage. A cage beyond which is a world of relying on others and living under their shadow. I won't lie. It sounds very tempting. But what a life would that be? The cage has enough openings to breathe comfortably from. Here and there, use the outside world of the cage as an inhaler to get that small, helpful boost. But to totally give up on myself and live under others' umbrella would be the worst.
Say, you left behind a comfortable life, took life into your own hands, away from the comfortable shade of a well-doing family, to live life independently and do your own thing. Somewhere in the future, you give up on that ideology, and let's say you go back to relying on your siblings because it is an easy backup when things got hard. What is worse? To fight through adversity or to take the easy way out?
I have to now rebuild everything. The details of why I have to start again from zero are both political and, at the same time, no one's problem but mine. At times, it feels like using a "double-edged sword" approach, like using a fossil fuelled machine to build facades for plants, is necessary. Nevertheless, one step at a time is still the best strategy.
The question "how's life after 600 days of war?" sort of brought me face to face with myself. My real self. I'm not a practicing doctor now, I'm don't run a business anymore, I'm missing friends, and in general, down in many many ways. Nevertheless, I have taken a step towards rewarding myself and being productive...
I have been hellbent on creating opportunities for myself and making life a little easier for Ukrainians in the city. It may not be what I had planned for, but life has brought me here, at this position. There might be a silver lining to all of this, apart from the obvious. My current life is rewarding. Yet, I feel a massive loss of grip.
It takes time. That is what I tell myself, at least.
Challenging myself is something I always did and it's time to get back to it. Walking has always been my go-to, be it transportation, meditation, or brainstorming juice. It only makes sense to get back to basics and taking small steps that are fully in my control.
Like going back to walking everyday, giving up on excess plastic and using my own cups, spending time reading and learning something new for a few hours a day, demanding more from the creative side of my brain. Things like that cannot go wrong, and eventually should help me take back control of my own life.
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