A good life. What does that entail? Happiness, health, love, prosperity, wealth, family, friends?
Recently, I haven’t been able to help myself. I’ve thought endlessly about life and love, and what the world wants of us; in the end, everything we do is for nothing, and our existence will fade into the endless infinities within our infinite universe. All of our trivial emotions, setbacks, challenges within ourselves.. they will not matter, they will be irrelevant, and the fact that we once walked the diverse ground of this world will have empty meaning, nought. All the trials we faced, the fights we fought, the exams we tirelessly worked over, the meaningless social problems.. they won’t matter, unless, of course, there is a higher power who takes all of our actions and every speck of what we do into account, and records it in a log of the entirety of existence.
And then, of course, there’s the concept of love. The emotion that holds everything in its fragile and weak bag, which we batter until it is so fragile it has no ability to motivate and move forward any longer. The contents of that bag is the soul, the concept which works tirelessly to provide us with seemingly meaningful lives, which allow us to have free will and to exercise the emotions we have been granted. But why does the soul create the emotion of love? It is a double-edged sword: it can bring a person constant happiness and fulfilment, yet it can also murder joy, manifest depression and create darkness where light should be present. And yet we all long for it.
I have been in love. I am in love. But with someone who I can never be with, whose existence brings me great joy and great pain. I see them frequently, I make eye contact with them, I interact with them.. and my heart is stabbed constantly whilst revolving in that odd cycle of rapid beating. It is so painful, so scarring, but I cannot tear myself away. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve tried time and time again, but to no avail. I’ve prayed, wished longingly for the situation to change, for my longings to be made possible. But it is impossible, and my life will never have the chance to grant me that goodness that I need so desperately.
And so we revolve back to our primary topic: a good life. Personally, I believe that a good life means one where you have a balance of joy and sadness, of success and failure. A great friend of mine once said, ‘you wouldn’t know the light without the darkness’. Oh, how true that is. Painfully true. And I believe it to be so true, I live by that statement. (Well, that and ‘Normal is overrated.’). I believe we have a choice in this world: either to absorb the misery and disappear into the inescapable black hole, or to take the pain we feel in the face and to the heart, and incorporate it into living the life we know counts, however much the inevitability of oblivion is staring us in the face. We can be written into The Book of Good Life in the edifice of time, and know, when the time comes that we depart, that our lives were not wasted. We don’t have a lot of time; life files away like documents lost in a city wind. We cannot retrieve those days lost, but we can utilise every single moment to its full potential.
After all, honey would be too sickly without the bread.