In “The sky won’t change colour”, Emmanuel wrote about his disillusionment with the significance attached to the New Year. A rather obstinate refusal to be bound by the dictations of the Gregorian calendar. He, however, concedes that the New Year is convenient for reflection. And I agree with him, so this is me reflecting on the previous year, or at least something that closely resembles that.
If you ask me – what did you do with the time? And if I’m willing to be delusional; airbrushing the partial catastrophe this last year was, I will tell you – finding certainty.
I spent 366 days fitting on different garments and seeing which one feels more like me. I had a need for absolute, its immutable certainty and the unfortunate limitation that comes with it.
I will tell you that I spent the year figuring out what I want.
No, not really. I already know what I want.
I’ll tell you I spent the year trying to figure out how much I want it, and the dreams I am willing to sacrifice on the altar of grand ambitions – the opportunity cost of a bigger dream; apotheosis.
A victory is useless unless it reflects your deepest wishes.
Winning never mattered to me last year. Of course, it hurts to lose, but the victories were also ephemeral – fleeting. The goal was to find out which loss hurts the most. That makes me toss and turn in bed at 2:31AM, as I try to drown the memory of it with cheap dopamine hits. Which dream I was willing to let go for a victory that holds a mirror to my deepest wishes.
In a way, I was under the illusion of immortality. Lived with the assumption I was a god already and there was time. Enough to explore every single one of my interests. To try writing, painting, creating, speaking, and being an excellent student. Subconsciously, I believed there will always be time, the world will turn on its axis, take a million trip around the orbit and I’ll still be here.
“To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror; to learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror.” – Bene Gesserit
But the universe has a way of throwing your assumptions in your face – a reminder of the irrefutable fact that you ae ordinary. Time does not bend to your will; you bend to its will – for now anyway. And with that reminder, I was forced to confront the possibility of a limit. To cut down my dreams in realistic sizes.
And that was what the last year was for – figuring out my limit. Not in terms of how much I can push myself, but in terms of how many things I can dedicate myself to. How many of my dreams can I afford to indulge in.
Despite my lethargic approach to it all, I still figured it out. I realized that there’s no time. Yes, the finite nature of human life is what gives it value, but sometimes I wouldn’t mind a transformation bite on my neck and the immortality that comes with that. Immortality to do every single thing that I want. For the limits to merely be my desires, not the fickle limits of humanity. Sadly, vampires aren’t real.
Luckily, I now have a mental image of what the next 10 years of my life will be. The interests I can afford to toss out the window, and the interests I am absolutely willing to lay my life down for. I suppose in a way; I am like Loki after his exposure to the Tessaract – “I know now what must be done.”
There’s a certain brutalism in this that is both fascinating and terrifying.
I used to believe that I could be anything and everything I wanted. That the only limits that exist are the boundaries in my head and my undiagnosed ADHD. But now, I’m forced to accept that there’s a limit.
Yes, I can be anything I want to be, but I cannot be everything I want to be. By my own hands, I have to cut down the dreams I have. Decide which one is more “worthy” of my time. It is sentimental. And perhaps, it is part of my continued initiation into adulthood.
Resolutions…
Resolution – to resolve – verb: decide firmly on a course of action. Sym: firmness, tenacity, willpower.
“Resolution. Resolve. Means being unwavering, determined, a firm commitment to do something or not to do something. And most people go their whole wasted, stupid lives without one minute of true resolution.” – The Fall of the House of Usher
New Year’s resolution is one of the yearly rituals of the human race. The New Year gives us an illusion of a blank slate, and the resolutions effectively cement it.
In a mail to Emmanuel, I confessed to him that my resolution for this year is quite simple – do better. At first, it was a pitiful attempt at running away from the act of sitting on my family’s dining chair, that might be over a decade old, forcing myself to write down a numbered list of the things I intend to achieve in the coming year. Or it’s really just the valid fear of not crossing off even a single thing from the list. But now, I really mean it. I have to be better.
I need enough justification for the dreams I’ve cut off. I need to look at myself in the mirror and acknowledge that refusing to participate in the Word War was worth it. I need to know that this reality I am forcing myself to live in is worth it.
Yet, as I crave this certainty that promises to be the demiurge of my new reality, I cannot shake the reminder of the curses of a life of certainty.
“…And if you handed one of them the complete scenario of his life, the undying dialogue up to his moment of death – what a hellish gift that’d be. What an utter boredom! Every living instance he’d be replaying what he knew absolutely. No deviation.
Ignorance has its advantages. A universe of surprises is what I pray for.”
I could say the goal is excellence. But it isn’t. Not now. I want to be excellent. Godlike.
Oh, the precious and beautiful arrogance of man.
But first, I must be better. It hurts to accept that I simply cannot take a giant leap into godhood no matter how hard I try. That I cannot simply merge myself with a higher being and become a god overnight. There are steps, maybe uncodified, but there are. And before godhood, I must be better than the person I was yesterday.
So, what’s my goal for this year? It is an unwavering, determined, and firm commitment to be better. A legend taking its time to grow. Better, stronger, and more mythic than the day before.
“Goals, that’s what the kids call them I suppose. I think I can take some creative liberty with this. There is no blueprint for whatever this might be. In the words of Emmanuel – we are fated to paint the earth. We shouldn’t dread the canvas, staring forlornly at the brushes Yahweh has pressed so lovingly into our palms.”
I guess that’s what this is. A feeble attempt at painting the earth.
are essayists born or bred?
this one was born with a pen. let's watch time, breed.
in "i can be anything i want to be, but i cannot
be everything i want to be" you have coalesced the noble goal of apotheosis with a humbling cognizance of mortality.
perfect work & thank you for the honour. may YHWH bless.
Another beautiful piece.