2020 Is...

 2020 Is....

Fill this space up. 

It would be wise to give space to this year that has given so much in the means of time, and the understanding of the fragility of everything. How easy it is to feel tethered by gossamer threads, ideas, hopes, and dreams, the mighty PLANS that evaporate into nothing. I am still here.

I wonder, in these moments, what truly is the purpose of living. My hopes of finding a job and finding some sense of financial security and independence seem to have hopeful buds that get smashed onto the ground. I am one of the lucky ones. Inevitably, many will say, this wasn't that bad, the generations before us had it worse, global wars, famine, hunger, the pandemics of the past were even worse. Yet, somehow this year has felt like an attack on the mental reserves, and a true understanding of what this beast of modernity we live in. 

I am not saying that this is worse, I am just saying as an experiment in existentialism, it works. It provides just enough of the comforts of life for individuals to feel complacent and safe, yet it strips the sense of security that leaves an ebbing pull towards an anxious and frustrated soul. 

Today I went on a run, and it may have been the first time I've smiled in a long time. Not the social gatherings and people I've seen, but pure radiant joy. I used to have those bouts of wonder more often, and yet it seems hard to recall. How many others like myself sit trying to feel like the space between waking up and going to sleep was filled with things they can cross off as calling 'achievements'? 

What sort of gratification or satisfaction am I looking for? One that ties into capitalist modes of productivity? I partly feel I've answered my own question. To meditate, to maintain positivity, to be happy, to be kind, to what ends does this serve? Myself? Or does it enable a higher power to carry on doing exactly what they have been doing all along. Where is the source of global malaise?