You Remember the Detours

I have no idea what I’m doing. And I don’t know if other people are also feeling the same way, pretending that they know the answer, have already figured it out, or are just going with the flow.

You can always question something, which makes things hard. The common thing on social media is that an idiot in motion is better than a scholar who doesn’t act. Which makes sense, but it’s super weird because doing things always needs some justification.

I don’t want to keep writing about detachment and outcomes, that while we do things for an end goal, if you forget that end goal, you will somehow reach that goal sooner.

I’m in the process of writing a new book called What Are We Doing Here?, which tries to answer 10 of the hardest philosophical questions ever asked while I’m chilling in Boston finishing my master’s.

The reason why the title is What Are We Doing Here? is pretty self-explanatory: what are we doing here?

Is our life about meaning, the dopamine hits, raising a family, winning, losing, watching, learning? Everything is so daunting, in my opinion, not because of overstimulation, but because we have so many choices, which makes it scary.

I think Mark Manson mentioned that we aren’t happy because we are always choosing. Sometimes not being able to have options makes us happier because you will spend hours weighing those pros and cons for eternity.

Right now, sitting on my bed writing this blog post, do I struggle with decision paralysis? Do others compete with other people to not feel left out? Is there a time clock slowly counting down those precious seconds?

I don’t know the answer.

But I think I want meaning. Some people may not, which is fine, but I want meaning, which is unfortunately really complicated.

I don’t even know what that means. I don’t necessarily want a Porsche 911, even though I kinda do.

I don’t necessarily want new quarter-zips… unless they are Ralph Lauren.

But I don’t think it’s materialistic. A person, a title, a new beginning.

I want a new feeling.

I think when I wake up, yes, I want optimism and a carefree attitude, but I want to see the world through a different lens. Not analyzing, but this peaceful, carefree attitude that makes me feel at peace with whatever I do.

The starting scene in Attack on Titan kinda represents this serenity. I know it’s weird because this scene and the show have nothing to do with peace, well, maybe in some way.

I think I kinda like how Eren is confused in this purple meadow, with the birds in the sky, the sound of water running, waking up feeling confused.

I know Eren is confused in a whole different way, but being confused is a good thing, a peaceful one.

Not knowing what to do next is a peaceful feeling. Not knowing what to do, analyzing everything, feeling anxious, is a terrible one.

The feeling I want is, yes, peace, but also uncertainty about where I will be in five years’ time. Uncertainty about the person I will end up becoming.

Cycles, evidence, and trajectory are boring. Spontaneity with calmness feels freeing, and I like it.

Go to school, job, marriage, children, retire, go see Europe. Not bad.

But randomly going to NYC, going monk mode, then playing a Rocket League tourney, then suddenly learning Japanese sounds a little bit more exciting to me.

I am who I am. I have my interests, and my identity is me. It’s not about changing it. But staying stagnant makes those hobbies dull. Moving forward and detouring from the path a little bit makes it more fun.

In Frieren, there is a whole episode where Fern, Stark, and Frieren are trying to find this hot spring. They travel because Stark’s mentor told him to visit it. The hot spring was a disappointment. It was shallow, but the view was something else. It was a detour from their main goal to find Heaven, Aureole.

But the ridiculous adventure it took them to climb the mountain is something Stark and his crew will never forget.

It doesn’t make sense, right? Why do detours that take me away from becoming an SWE, from becoming a doctor, from becoming a parent tend to be the ones you remember the most?

Why is it that we constantly remember going to New York bars, my birthday party that wasn’t on my birthday, the first night in college, but not the degree, the black belt, or hitting a new PR?

So surely the answer is being present. Yes, I agree.

But it’s not just being present. You have to be confused, but you can’t do it 100% of the time because you won’t be able to live. You need to do the coursework and randomly go out on a Tuesday. But deciding when to do which can’t require planning. It requires intuition.

I want to trust myself so much that when I’m randomly doing something I’m not supposed to, I’m so content and at peace with myself that you can’t faze me, you can’t make me mad.

I want to trust myself so much that when you tell me to stop working so much, I can willingly and consciously choose to work more. I want to focus more, and I want to glue my eyes to this screen.

Not confidence in myself or whatever people say.

I want confidence in trusting my instincts, that whatever I feel like I’m doing is right and is where I’m meant to be.