A recurring theme in my own awareness is that of purpose, or more notably, the lack thereof. Lately I find myself becoming more consumed by nihilistic introspection; life is meaningless, a hollow husk of infinite potential that is not being realised. If life is a meal, then I need to find some sustenance to accompany the dessert.
I feel like I am sat staring at a blank canvas with no idea how to populate it. I know that I want it to be filled with beauty, magnificence and purpose; I want it to be a masterpiece - but how? The blank canvas is my life, and I desperately need something to fill it with.
Life is just so empty and unfulfilling, and not in a depressive way - simply in the sense of feeling directionless. This doesn't even relate to the current Lockdown; it has been this way for quite some time. Of course holidays, day trips, social gatherings and family events will help to quell the sense of being rudderless once they can resume. My friends and family, notably my children, help to give my life a modicum of purpose. But between these fleeting moments of fun and distraction, my purpose here remains elusive. My children are growing into young adults who are not so dependent on me anymore. My family have their own lives to keep them preoccupied. My friends are in various stages of their own evolution's, and our interactions are usually passionate but brief in duration.
I recently entertained the idea of a romantic relationship, but looking back now, I can see it was just another project I was trying to use to fill the Void in my life. A distraction, albeit an attractive one. I find broken people alluring; I can dedicate my time and energy to feeling like I am making a difference. It's the "fixer" mentality that I have acquired over time. I believe naively that I can find purpose for myself, by adding value to other peoples lives. I can distract myself with helping them to fight their battles, and in doing so, I give myself a sense of usefulness. A purpose, however fleeting. But when it all comes crashing down, the Void remains waiting to consume me. In my desperation to escape the Void, I grasp tightly to fragments of memories of the times when I was distracted, and as the broken shards inevitably make my hands begin to bleed I reluctantly let go. I never believed that long term relationships help to keep us away from the Void. The escapism I utilise myself is also echoed in the actions of most people I see in relationships too.
I game to distract myself. I watch TV and listen to music. I read books. I work out. I work on my novel, and I make music. Yet beyond these temporary, disposable activities, I yearn for more. These circuses do not fulfill me. They do not sate my thirst for life. I look around at everyone else, blissfully existing, happily obsessing over their gym routines, the sports they enjoy watching or an array of hobbies that keep them distracted from golf, to fishing, to crafts; and I just cannot relate to it. How many people these days spend hours just scrolling on social media, IG feeds, watching endless Tik Toks and YouTube videos? Playing repetitive mind numbing mobile games that add no real value to the world? It all seems so shallow. So passive. It's not engaging enough. I used to turn to drugs and alcohol to address the Void. I'd sedate myself into oblivion trying to evade it's crushing weight. But as with all forms of escapism, sooner or later, you have to return to reality. And when you do, the Void is still waiting.
Wealth has never been attractive to me; I never viewed chasing money as a worthwhile pursuit. I have a comfortable life; I don't really want for anything. Sure, I could buy a bigger house; but why? I don't need one. I could get a car? Never needed one though, and don't really need one now. How about buy some new clothes, get some tattoos, reinvent myself, buy the latest gadgets and gizmos... it wouldn't provide the long lasting fulfillment I am seeking. I typically spend my money excessively on my daughter and unintentionally feed her narcissism and spoiled sense of entitlement. I live pretty frugally myself. I aren't superficial. I aren't materialistic. I aren't interested in keeping up with the Jones' or performing in the digital pageantry of vanity. I aren't motivated by money or possessions. I need more. Always more. I need something that satisfies me on an emotional level; a spiritual level even.
And this is where I am today. Sitting in front of the blank canvas once again, unsure which medium to use, or where to begin. The Void is towering over me, it's swirling emptiness ready to consume me, and I know that I'll either regress to the distractions once more, or finally figure this out.
Please for my sanity, let me begin my masterpiece this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment