One aspect of being me I find frustrating is how directionless my life seems given the hundred-and-one interests I pursue.

Opinions differ on that, of course.

  • Some suggest I force said pursuits to take turns, focusing on one or the other in different seasons of life – a car, after all, does not move when all four wheels spin in different directions even if the engine is running full throttle.
  • Others accept my being a generalist as something temporary that would serve me well when I finally grow up and become “somebody” in a specific field.
  • Still others look at my life and admire/envy the flexibility of abilities they perceive in me through my varied activities and studies. (Emphasis on “perceived.”)

It makes for an interesting life, this “Jill of all trades” sort of approach. It is what my parents have intentionally raised me to be (or at least be capable of being), it is a journey I mostly enjoy, and it does indeed serve me well more often than not.

But some days the flurry of activity itself seems to exist only to mask a deeper stagnation and internal confusion regarding what I am to be and do.

If my life were a meal, is it to be made up of just side dishes?

And so I ask myself the age-old question again: What is the point of all this?

Masochistic self-analyzation and impulsive overthinking being staples in routine existential crises I fall into whenever life throws a wrench into dreams and plans, I take advantage of such moments to hit upon realizations.

Here is one recently stumbled upon: Maybe the emptiness of my spinning in circles around the things I want to do and what I can do (what I tend to think as two ingredients of what I should do) stems from the fact that such things were chosen by me and were not things that chose me.

If I choose something, I can just as easily choose not to continue doing it.

But if there is something I do not choose, would I have the same freedom ability to turn a cold shoulder to it whenever I want?

(No need to have this turn into a debate on the eternal question of free will and predestination – we deal exclusively in the realm of the subjective here. Note also the inherent sense of personal responsibility in our response to this “being chosen” even if the choice was not up to us.)

This question arose before me over the past few weeks when reality quite rudely jostled a dream I had finally stepped toward realizing – that of becoming an architect.

In the name of using actions to prove intentions, I started taking courses in architectural technology from a local college. Within days, I realized I had misperceived both myself and the industry, particularly when it comes to the process of how things are done. For one thing, I disliked computer-aided design with a fervour that surprised me; for another, it turns out I enjoy designing things and I like drawing buildings, but not necessarily designing buildings.

I contemplated dropping the courses altogether, or finishing the semester but not the two-year program. Then I wondered if I was being a wimp thinking this way – AutoCAD does have a steep learning curve for those unaccustomed to detail-oriented digital design – or if I simply did not care enough about what I thought I wanted to do.

Confused thoughts piling up, I decided to take my thoughts to court, throwing dozens of assumptions and emotional responses onto the witness stand and demanding from them truth and facts. In the midst of the legal battle between my ego, my heart, my soul, and my mind, a question was whispered:

“What is something you have never stopped doing no matter the pain, loneliness, or frustration it gave you?”

“Do not ask yourself if you want to do the thing, if you chose to do the thing, or for what reasons you still do the thing,” the thought continued. “Just answer the question.”

It turned out that I did have an answer – and, which was more surprising, it was singular.

Writing.

There are close second-places, I suppose. Music (singing) and movement (martial arts) have been part of my life since toddler days. But though I feel as if life is not complete without them, even these have never grown roots into my being to the same depths as words and ideas and stories have.

It feels somewhat embarrassing to admit that, for all my searching and exploration and seeking for “my place in the world,” I simply end up where I have been all along. Interests come and go; I think I am this or can become that and want to do the other and so go after them; at the end, it might be the thing I cannot shake off that has really been my focus all along.

In his powerful and poetic essay In Praise of Shadows, Jun’ichirō Tanizaki wrote:

“An art must live as part of our lives or we had better give it up.”

“Art” can be quite broadly defined, and there are as many different lives as there are people living them. But when the two become inseparable for you, for one particular art and the life you are living – other pursuits come and go depending on opportunity or measurable profit or convenience, but this singular art remains true and present no matter the situations – that is what has chosen you.

Does everyone have this “something”? Maybe not. Must one make it their “main thing” in life if one does find it? That is a personal decision. But if, among all the things you have chosen to do and be you realize that something has chosen you, it might be worth asking what else you would rather spend a significant part of your life doing.

This is not to say that exploration is inadvisable once you have found the thing you cannot not do. One reason why I am a writer, I like to think, is because I wish to live life to the fullest; having “experiencing stuff helps me write better” as an excuse to do so is nice sometimes. And there is much to be said about being flexible enough with interests and skills to pivot into different fields. After all, if you know how to walk, you can still move forward when your horse dies.

But between mastering something I do no matter what or mastering something I am merely interested in, it seems that my path is clear.

Now to do my best not to go too deep into rabbit trails along said path. 😉

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