Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars" is this blog's theme song. Go ahead and play it.
Two nights ago I had a conversation with a friend about the significance of life. We both recognized the infinite significance of an individual life. We agreed about the importance of people recognizing this so they may have the opportunity to live their limited lives to the fullest. Indeed it would be a tragedy to waste this wondrous opportunity.
However, enjoying life is not a straightforward task. Though my friend found it easy to be awed by our world's many features, my body does not react with nearly the same enthusiasm. Yes, the world is incredibly complex and there are always new things to see and understand, but so what? Moreover, recognizing the finitude of our unique lives could very much lead to fear and existential crisis rather than awe. I've been there, done that. Just look at this blog's opening posts.
Nevertheless, during that conversation I concluded that the point of life is to enjoy, while the ethic is to help others enjoy. I was instantly presented with a grand challenge: enjoying life as best as I can. I thought about how I might do that and made plans to carry out the task the following day. Surely in all of New York City I would find something enjoyable to me.
The next day things didn't quite go as planned. Plans to spend time with a good friend did not work out. Instead of enjoying the wonders of existence, I became frustrated as a result of my plans not working out. I had no good plan B. I ultimately decided to cool down my frustration with a walk through some areas I hadn't yet explored around the border of West Village and Tribeca.
I did my best to be awed by the little things around me. I touched the tree bark, noticed particularities of buildings, and thought about the life-giving air I was breathing in. I felt calm, almost serene . . . but not joyful. I headed toward the Hudson and found a nice spot under a couple of trees with low-lying branches. Once I identified the exact spot I wanted to sit in, I proceed to do so.
I sat there calmly, watching the people walk and run by. I then took the camera out of my backpack and took some pictures as the sun was setting. Again, I felt calm, almost serene . . . but not joyful. I took my cellphone out of my pocket, debated what I should do with it, and decided to send a text to my best friend: "I love you." I sat there awhile longer, got back up, and continued my walk down Hudson River Park.
I discovered all kinds of things during that part of the walk: an indoor sports field, tennis courts, basketball courts, metallic public tables and chairs. I thought to myself "I'm gonna have to come back here." The end of the metallic chairs and tables also marked the end of the park's nice grassy strip. I therefore decided to find the closest subway and head back to Brooklyn. I walked down Laight Street, crossed a pedestrian bridge going over the expressway, and soon after spotted the A-C-E. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Though yesterday's walk was a nice break from my normal routine, I certainly did not enjoy the day to the fullest. I know that I enjoy spending time with good friends, playing games (sports, boardgames, whatever), hiking, roadtripping, singing, producing music, and watching Detroit Lions football games, but there's really not that much else. Well I like doing my lifestyle architecture work, and I would probably enjoy teaching, but besides these and perhaps a few other work-related activities, I can't think of much else I enjoy. Photography can be good at times, as can watching a movie and a few other other activities, but these activities don't bring me the greatest level of enjoyment.
I suppose the answer is to restructure my life so as to do more of the things I really enjoy on a day to day basis. The challenge is that my happiest moments are social moments, so it's not just a matter of restructuring my own life, but also of restructuring the lives of others. And before I even try to begin that process I must find these special persons to restructure my life with. Now that seems daunting. I'm therefore not very hopeful right now. Perhaps I need my own lifestyle architect.
