In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains – Simon & Garfunkel, The Boxer
I am terrified of where my life is headed. At twenty-six, now, I have faced more battles with ordinary things than the average 25-year-old I know. And yet, my battles are trivial, pathetic, unthinkable in comparison to so many other 25-year-olds around the world. I am often ashamed to even question my fate.
But, in the relative scheme of things, I am not where I imagined myself to be. And, that is how you examine your life, don’t you: In the relative scheme of things. Who would explain Tony Scott jumping to his death, and so many other greats in suicide: you would think they were rich, and they were happy, and at peace.
The Boxer reminds me then, to keep fighting. Life is fucked up really, and an ideal state of happiness is unachievable. Something’s always going to come up, burst your bubble. You have to be happy in the moment, despite everything. And, do your bit to mend what you’ve broken, break fewer hearts, make more friends, be more open.
I have spiritually evolved from lost and confused and even shy, to open and easygoing. It is a tremendously rewarding way to live, for suddenly you’re enjoying reading a Murakami in a hospital room, eating dinner at your parents’ friends house you’ve never met before and laughing, looking back at the past and forgiving…