I recently finished The Sudden Appearance of Hope the World Fantasy Award winner from last year and it's very captivating. The central conceit is that the main character is forgotten, anyone she meets, once she leaves their presence she fades from their memory. The villain of the piece isn't an individual but this app called "Perfection" which is a combination of social media, life coaching, and conformity. "Perfection" tells people what to eat, where to work out, what to wear etc. and is based on a point system and only the wealthy can afford to achieve high scores. It creates a new elite, an aristocracy for the 21st Century. It exploits the desire for Hollywood-esk standards of beauty, fame, and influence. One of the major themes the book gets at through the lens of this perverse app is success. What is it, who is it for, by what standard is it measured. And that's something I've been thinking a lot about recently.
I've written recently about my frustration with my current professional situation. Certainly not terrible but more a low grade of discontent which is increasingly draining. I'm looking for other options and making some progress but still feel a little trapped, stagnant, static. On top of that a couple weeks back Jimmy, one of my best friends in comedy and in recovery, decided he'll most likely be moving next year. The compounding effects of the first situation and the surprise of the second kind of sent my mind racing. Raised that age-old and futile existential questions- what am I doing with my life. And I think it really boils down to feeling like a failure, not with respect to my actual actions, achievements, and goals but with respect to what other people are doing and expectations not set by me but by some weird unattainable societal amalgam.
If I'm not making X amount of money I'm a failure, if I'm not married I'm a failure, if I don't have kids I'm a failure, if I'm not famous I'm a failure, if I don't look a certain way, weigh a certain amount I'm a failure, if I stay in Chicago I'm a failure etc. etc. When these thoughts come the slope gets slippery awful quick. But the reality is these thoughts, these feelings are all just expressions of fear and ego. I can be happy/content by doing those things which make me happy/content, by living my life with conviction and integrity, by being of service to my friends, family, and employer. My happiness/contentment has nothing to do with what other people are doing. Has no place in comparison to, it is independent from.
Sometimes it feels like there are certain boxes to check in order to be happy, in order to be or achieve success. And that's simply not the case. Success is not defined by social media attention, bank balance, or professional advancement. It is defined by love and honesty and hope and connection. At least to me. And that's the thing, the world, society, does not get to define what success in my life looks like, does not get to define the parameters of my happiness. I do. And perhaps right now my work life is a bit unbalanced but I'm working on changing that and I know it won't last forever. Yes, come next year my life will look pretty different when my best bud leaves town but I have tons of friends and acquaintances, that loss will open up opportunity. If there are things I want to be doing, goals I want to achieve, I can take the small actions which lead toward those things, and whether I attain them or not I can take satisfaction in the trying. In the living. Because if I look at the present, the here-and-now not the hypothetical future(bleak only because my imagination has made it so), I have so much to be grateful for- health, passion, friendship, romance, family, fiction, cinema, granola, a motorcycle, cool new DSW boots. If I take the time to think about it the list goes on and on.
No comments:
Post a Comment