Friday night finds me alone in my room. Watching episodes of my favorite shows. Relishing in my new favorite drink (vodka tonic, just a splash of lemon juice). I could be out right now. Out with friends. A few too many drinks. Maybe some shy smiles from across the dance floor. Some drunk (in?)sincerity. But I just don't feel like it tonight. Tonight is one of those nights best spent alone, trying to figure out...figure out what? Who I am? What I am doing with my life? My overall worldview? I guess I just don't know anymore. All I know is that my mind and soul need some time to themselves, and they are itching to burn a hole through a piece of paper (electronic paper works also), so I thought I'd oblige.
Life has been mixed as of recently. My classes aren't too hard, and I even enjoy some of them. Work is decent. I get a good amount of hours, I like the people I work with, and it isn't too hard. I have a good group of friends. I'm a total trainwreck, but they still love me.
So why do I feel so dissatisfied and restless?
I guess it all really came to a head when I finished Lev Grossman's book "The Magicians". The premise is not unlike Harry Potter - a disenchanted boy is thrust into the world of magic unexpectedly, except in this case, he goes to a magician's college. And while the books that "The Magicians" is derivative of (Harry Potter and the Narnia series, primarily) portray kids being thrust into a magical realm and all their dreams coming true...Grossman portrays a world that resembles reality. Quentin gets what he always wanted - a world of magic - but he isn't happy with it. He even gets to travel to the world (essentially Narnia) he read about as a kid - but he isn't happy with it. And so on...
When he gets what he wants, it isn't that his expectations are too high...it is just that they really just don't live up to what people said about them. After he graduates from his magical college, he and his friends all live together, but mostly what they do is drink and do drugs and drift steadily further apart. When he gets to Fillory, they have no idea what to do, so they drink and wish they had drugs. When they get a quest (the thing Quentin wanted more than anything in the world - a quest, an adventure to give his life meaning and direction)...people die and it is not like it is portrayed in the books. When they meet the god of Fillory (imagine Aslan), he is a prisoner, powerless in his own realm. They do defeat the evil Beast...but at what cost?
I read that book, and it was gripping, and I loved it, and when I finished, I just felt...empty. Not happy. Not sad. But vacant. Numb. Empty. I don't want to end up in the shiftless, directionless, hedonistic, and desperate life that Quentin and his friends find themselves in. But I know that there is a good possibility I will.
A lot of people are happy, and I am genuinely a pretty happy guy. But I will tell you about the time I really felt true joy and true contentment...
I was in Croatia, and we were digging holes and replanting trees for a church. It was menial labor, it was mediocre weather...but I had a group of good people with me, and I could see the fruits of my labor. And when we finished, I went biking. 4 of us. Croatian backroads, late Autumn, early Winter...it was the most beautiful thing in the world. We saw a grand total of 2 cars the entire time. The cold air was hard on my lungs, but I wouldn't trade that for the world. And I'd trade the world to have that back.
No comments:
Post a Comment