I remember telling my therapist one day that I feel my life lacks joy. I was going through a particularly difficult time in my life and wished to feel any other emotion than pain, loneliness, and boredom. I would lie in my bed for hours, watching everyone else on social media living their lives. I thought what I needed in my life was excitement and spontaneity. I was tired of living the same day over and over again. I didn’t want my life to be dictated by the constraints of my college schedule, attending lectures, doing what felt like grueling and meaningless assignments, and filling whatever free time daydreaming about a more ‘authentic’ life. YouTube started recommending me van life videos, and I dreamt of one day doing the same — traveling the world, removing myself from the toxicity of modern life, and living authentically and freely. Imagining this alternative lifestyle for myself provided a temporary relief from the constant state of agony I was in. This supposed rejection of societal pressures also made me feel superior to my peers who I believed were in pursuit of materialistic goals without any meaningful contemplation of a life worth living. I started going to the library to read books instead of attending lectures and fell behind on my assignments. I could not continue to stay in the environment I grew to contest. So I left, not knowing if or when I would return.
It’s been 6 months since and I’ve stopped questioning the meaning of life as much. Instead, I’m learning to find joy in the small things. Simply put, what I was missing wasn’t excitement or spontaneity but gratitude. I’m not saying my depression would have been cured if I just had been more grateful. In fact, being acutely aware of my lack of gratitude just made me feel worse for not being able to feel appreciation for my privileged life. It is only now when I’m not actively struggling with suicidal thoughts that I’m able to feel positive emotions. But I still have to make a conscious effort to feel better every morning when I wake up. It is difficult to get out of bed some days, but I’m able to do so with some mindfulness. One thing that helps is reminding myself first thing when I wake up of the somewhat obvious fact that I am alive. Specifically, that I am alive for another day. If in the past I was driven by the fear of death, I am now energized by the gratitude of being alive and not taking that fact for granted. Some days, this works and I’m reminded of how precious life is. Other days, I find myself unaffected. Similar to when you come across a thought-provoking quote, and its effect on you eventually wears off until it’s no more than a string of words to you. I guess that’s how sayings like “Every day is a gift” becomes cliché.
So, when motivational sayings fail me, I turn to my routine. I open up Spotify to play my favorite song at the moment, and I get out of bed. I head to my bathroom, hop into the shower, get dressed, and I already feel much better. If I can afford to, I take my time to do my makeup. After that, I’m ready to start my day, and I head downstairs to the kitchen. I make myself a matcha latte, which has a ritual of its own. I grab a bottle of water and bring it with my matcha to my workstation, and that’s my morning routine. I used to think that I wasn’t a morning routine kind of person. I thought having the freedom to start my morning however I wanted was an exercise of my free will. Every day would be different and potentially exciting. What I’ve come to realize is that routines aren’t boring but grounding. It prevents decision fatigue so you have more brain power for more important tasks later on. There’s still room for variation and something new like switching out the matcha for a coffee instead. I’ve also learned to be flexible. Some days, it takes longer to get out of bed, which means I may have to skip a few steps, but the important thing is that the overall flow of the routine stays intact.
I realize none of this is revolutionary or particularly interesting, but I think that’s the point. Life isn’t meant to be exciting every day, and the biggest improvements start with small changes. We’re constantly force fed this idea that we’re supposed to be having the time of our lives in our teens and twenties whether it be from media or adults who like to reminisce about the good old days. Because of this, I’ve always felt burdened by the pressure to do something remarkable, to be extraordinary. I even feel this pressure when I write.
This summer I’m back home and sometimes it feels like I’ve taken a step backward. I live in an idyllic, suburban town with virtually nothing to do but to go outside and enjoy nature. So I’ve been doing exactly that. Long walks with my headphones on, just strolling around town with no destination in mind. I let my mind wander, and I remember to take big breaths, enjoying the cool evening breeze on my skin. Sometimes, I’ll even stop to appreciate the flowers blossoming on the side of the road. I don’t think I’d be able to recall what I did last week, and every day feels more or less the same. And I’m learning to be okay with that and to be truly present in the moment.
I’ve realized that I don’t need to do anything exciting to find joy in my life. In slowing down, I’ve allowed myself to take time to appreciate all the small things I’ve missed like beautiful sunsets and a warm summer breeze. I’ve also learned to remind myself that I still have a lot of time. Time to learn more about myself and my passions, and that it’s okay to not have everything figured out yet or have accomplished something groundbreaking. I’m learning that I am worthy just for the fact that I am a human being on this earth.
