Ruminations

I can never expect to do better than my parents, on a whole assortment of levels. It feels like every week there’s another article about how the current generation, won’t do as well as previous generations, is more pessimisitic than previous generations, and are more lonely. But even without those trends, I’m finding myself unable to compete on my own societal metrics.

My parents have had far more economic success than me, and they love their occupations, whereas I struggle, though I find my new job interesting enough. My parents were just a few years older than me when they had me (I’m 31, they were 32), after having been together for seven years, while I’m chronically single, a few 3 – 5 month long relationships aside. My parents come from well-to-do families, and built on top of that, to reach high strata in society while establishing a family, and finding satisfaction in their work. I don’t see myself fulfilling any of those, and I wonder what I can find satisfaction in.

Worklife I’ve expounded on it before, but where I ended up career-wise was not a great move, but I’m also at a loss to what I could have done differently. I never found a call, or something that was just right for me, and I don’t know what that could be. But as I’m recovering from an injury, I’m also enjoying my job more and more: I have nice colleagues (and a supportive boss), tasks that are comfortably challenging, and nice working conditions. Everywhere in our society though is this ideal that we need to do what we have a passion for, so what do you do, if you have no idea what your passion is or could be?

Only the most select few humans get to have an individual impact, most people who think they do don’t, human civilisation would get by just fine, either someone else would have stepped up, or at best progress would have been slowed by a few years. Geniuses aren’t humanities only shot, they just have the capability to advance affairs at a faster pace, than what would otherwise have happened. What happens to most geniuses? They languish in obscurity, born in the wrong places, at the wrong time, or of the “wrong” sex/ethinicity/belief of the time.

So if I can be fine with my job, who or what does that hurt, outside of my parents’ ambitions for me? I’d love to love my work like my parents love theirs, but I don’t see it happening. We can all be unique and inviolable humans (when it aligns with political realities anyway), but we can’t all be Alexander Fleming, Napoleon or Gavrilo Princip, so what’s the danger in stepping aside, and supporting society to the best of my ability? Though I’m fine with my job, it’s one I believe needs doing, and which serves a higher purpose.

Family life I don’t think I’m an awful boyfriend, but I wish that I had more experience being a boyfriend, as only one relationship has lasted more than a few months, and that relationship had all sorts of other issues. I’m worried that when (or if) I meet someone right, that I won’t be ready, because I won’t have had the opportunities to make the mistakes I need to make. The other day I met an old friend, who still keeps in touch with some old friends I lost touch with seven years ago: Four couples. Guess what, they’re all still together. Looking at my friends around me, they haven’t had relationships that long, but they’re all in solid and caring relationships.

I look at my parents too, they’ve long since gone through an uncomfortable divorce, but they met when they were twentyfive, and their relationship lasted twenty years (most of them good). It’s hard not to measure yourself against your parents, how can you not, and unlike comparing my “career”, I’m jealous when I look at what my parents had, and what my friends around me have. Why can’t I have that too? I fear that I bounce between trying too hard and giving up entirely, and that neither is particularly attractive to anyone.

I recently had a friend visiting who’s stuck somewhere similar, chronically unable to find someone, and this guy is cute as hell, and full of the kind of qualities I imagine women like. We talked briefly about it, and then looked at each other and went: “But does it really matter?”. We’re now comfortable in our single lives; whereas our teenage selves were beyond keen, do we really care anymore? I used to be worried about one day “giving up”, but now that I’m here, it feels entirely alright, I’m comfortable right here and now, tired of having my heart disappointed or broken over and over.

I used to ask my teachers how they became teachers (because I consider it the noblest of professions), and most gave some variation of “it just sort of happened”. I also remember asking an adult (when I was a child) why he was single (at the age of my parents), and he answered “I just didn’t find anyone”. I did find someone, but it just sort of happened, that something insurmountable came in their way. I’ve kept looking, despite my mother’s belief to the contrary, but it’s just continually not happening, and I’m finding my peace with that, instead of just not caring.

Promise When everything is good enough, can it ever be sufficient? As I’m writing this now, I realise that I’m ready to compromise on my career, because it doesn’t seem integral to me, but I’m not willing to compromise on a relationship, maybe because I’ve seen how engrossing it can be, and so I’m losing out on finding/losing myself in either. If I don’t change myself, I’ll spend the rest of my life working at something I don’t find fulfilling in and of itself, and I’ll be without the kind of love and support, I knew from experience can give meaning to my life as a whole.

It’s good to know this, but I don’t know what to do with this knowledge 😕. I just know that ennui isn’t exactly an ideal state of mind.