“Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.”
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For me, for you, for most others, 2020 was the year of home confinement. And, of course, that confinement didn’t simply disappear with the dawn of the new year.
When the first lockdown hit, I – almost automatically – threw myself into blogging, into side projects, into self-discovery and self-improvement. As a result, 2020 was one of the most eye-opening, impactful, and path-changing years of my life. And that’s simply because my existence was limited to the four walls of a home, with little else but my thoughts for company.
And then (perhaps predictably), it all came crashing down. December came, and I was exhausted. Burnt out. Those months swallowed whole by a mundane mix of a laptop screen, hard gruel, and little time off – all in a city where I knew no one – finally took their long-overdue toll on me.
Unbeknownst to me, my poor rest ethic was slowly weakening the Chemical X my motivation so desperately needed (yes, that was a Powerpuff Girls reference and no, I’m not sorry).
For a while, however, I just kept going. I couldn’t face slowing down – even when I’d finally completed those large, challenging, after-this-is-over-I’ll-finally-relax projects. The end of one project simply gave birth to another, bred from the panic to fill in the ‘now what’ void left behind. I’d scramble to find the ‘next big thing’ to counter my confusing sense of deflation.
And on the cycle went. I didn’t pause, breathe, or savour my days, my experiences – not even my birthday, which turned out to be as ordinary a day as you can get.
But, you see, that’s the thing. That’s where I went wrong. There I was, unintentionally dismissing the ‘ordinary’.
Until, that is, my brother finally convinced me to actually sit down and watch a film – one that completely transformed my perspective.
That film was Pixar’s Soul.
Its message – at least, the message I took from it — was heart-wrenching and deeply relevant for me, right here, right now:
Don’t defer your happiness.
The mindset for much of my life has, unfortunately, not quite wavered:
‘Once I complete this project, I’ll rest. I’ll finally be happy.’
‘I’ll only be content once I secure my dream job. Before that, nothing else matters.’
However, watching Soul exposed to me that this mindset, my mindset, was just standard-issue happiness deferral – the idea that happiness eludes us until we reach a certain milestone, achieve a certain goal, or fly to that certain holiday destination.
But, really, happiness is not to be found exclusively in those big-bang moments. In fact, perhaps they’re not to be found in those moments at all. Instead, true happiness exists in all the smaller moments, in those little crevices between the larger moments.
Living a life of joy is not about deferring the very living of life while you pursue the (supposedly) bigger things. Happiness isn’t something to be delayed to another time, another place – one in which you’ve ‘earned’ it. Happiness is the pure enjoyment of ordinary life itself.
Strangely enough, though, it’s the very same ordinary that we so often tend to dismiss.
A few weeks ago, I took a stab at the Year Compass exercise for the first time. And it was in the exercise of listing my most joyful memories from the year that it became clear – crystal clear. Those seemingly small pieces of joy, sprinkled generously throughout the year? Those were my biggest source of happiness.
True ‘joy’ was devouring a Tupperware of Cape gooseberries in a single sitting with my father, discussing everything from the nuances of the Booker prize to our cat’s sleep schedule.
It was all those impromptu pauses of calm, of quiet, with said cat as we lay in the slice of sunshine that makes its way through the balcony door.
It was the surprise of discovering authentic pastries and coffee on a terrace in the heart of a city in which I’d never imagined to find a piece of ‘home’.
It was the first bite of my father’s saffron roast chicken beside our miniature Christmas tree on a cool night in December.
The comfort of homemade milkshakes with my brother.
The wholly unexpected interest in (and subsequent edge-of-the-seat obsession with) the game of cricket.
What it wasn’t, was the completion of those particularly taxing side projects – milestones I’d believed would have been the highlight, the pinnacle of the year. Sure, I’d been productive, it was tough, it was fleetingly fulfilling, but the accomplishment didn’t quite comfort me with the immense relief or satisfaction I was expecting – at all.
How did we get here?
We get so hopelessly caught up in chasing the ‘next big thing’ that we so often forget about the little, more precious things, right in front of us.
I had become so intensely focussed on my laptop life towards the tail end of 2020 that I barely took the time to truly taste my meals, to truly soak up the fresh air, the sunshine. And, after it was all over, there was nothing left but an anxious void.
I dearly wish Soul had been released earlier in the year – for me, for all of us. But perhaps we wouldn’t have been ready for its message. Perhaps we would still be in denial, grieving our technicolour pre-lockdown existence, full of (supposedly) more flavour, more fun.
But I know now. I know it isn’t always ‘extraordinary’ that brings us true, long-lasting joy after all. It’s all the ‘ordinary’ moments we’d ignored along the way.
It’s time to remediate this, to be intentional about savouring life – every single part of it.
So, here’s to seeking comfort, joy, and true satisfaction in the ‘ordinary’. Because, perhaps, it is that very ordinary that was extraordinary all along.
Until next time,
S
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Cover image: Watching the sunrise over Mount Abu, Rajasthan (accompanied by a campfire black tea, of course).
