On a Curtained Balcony

 

Hey you,

It’s been almost a year since we moved away from home. Almost a year since I put up those red curtains for my balcony doors. That was all the decoration I could manage for my room, except for the aloe vera sulking at me from my table. I know I forget about its existence most of the time, but it pretty much takes care of itself. That was why I agreed to bring it over in the first place, mom was adamant.

I figured that my balcony would be my escape from routine and monotony, like my terrace used to be back home. I pictured myself leaning on the railing with a warm cup of tea, watching the orange sky and smiling to myself. Unfortunately, this image never materialized. Instead, my balcony’s been gathering dust and pigeon feathers.

I wish I could say that this was a good thing, that it was because the routine hasn’t been monotonous at all. But the truth is that the routine has been colonizing my mind, leaving little to no space for guilt-free leisure thoughts. Emphasis on the ‘guilt-free’. In the middle of the hustle, I would instead find comfort in the closed curtains, knowing that the escape was right there if I needed it, but not allowing myself to peek, lest I get drawn to it and end up staying for too long.

It’s funny how until a year ago, I prided myself in not being affected by the rat race, in believing that I could be different, content with what I have. But I understand now that I am a part of the race whether I like it or not. Refusing to see that only makes me incompetent in a society that I am dependent on. Today I find myself yearning for more, feeling disheartened for not keeping up, beating myself up for being idle, for enjoying life rather than working determinedly towards a goal. Today it is not enough to merely live, I need to achieve, I need to conquer.

This goes against my previous outlook of living with the pleasures of little things. I understand now that the satisfaction I used to feel earlier came from a place of privilege, where everything I wanted fit into its respective places without much hassle. Now that I need to lift a finger to get something I want, I suddenly feel like nothing is working out. I’m impatient and dissatisfied. It took a while to realize that these feelings were a byproduct of a newly sown seed of ambition.

I’ve often associated ambition with unhappiness. You either get there or you don’t. When you don’t, you’re unhappy. When you do, the feeling is transient and leaves you with an emptiness afterward. Psychology even has a term for it – arrival fallacy. Ambition to me was an addiction that keeps us stuck in the race.

I’m learning to see it differently now. Ambition gives a purpose to our existence, however transient. But we must learn to dissociate it from the idea that we cannot be happy until we achieve it. I’ve been struggling to do that, however. As the year comes to a close, I’m grasping at straws to feel accomplished. I have no feathers to add to my cap. But it is not enough to merely live, right? I need to achieve; I need to conquer.

While I’ve been happy this year, I haven’t been satisfied. I’ve been trying to fit everything into my schedule. To work out as often as possible, to cook healthy meals, to meet professional deadlines, to keep the house clean, to write, to read, to take that online course I’ve always wanted to, to make time for my loved ones, to socialize, in fact, to simply live an average normal life. Why does something that is supposed to be natural feel a little overwhelming? Maybe because I feel like I’m not doing any of it well enough.

I am in awe of all those who have learned to prioritize and organize their routine. I am in awe of all the artists who stay in touch with their art while having a separate full-time job. And I am blown away by those holding together a family as well.

As for me, I think about this year and I remember all the times I’ve pampered myself. The wardrobe upgrades, the salon visits, the weekend getaways…it’s been a great year. Given another chance, I would do it all again. But without an accomplishment, it just doesn’t feel enough.

I was starting to consider the year unproductive as a whole. But then, I would be invalidating how I learned to handle a home and develop healthy habits, how my introverted self decided to explore spoken word poetry, and how I’ve grown as a person through my relationship with my partner.

I can’t help feeling a little proud after all. Progress, no matter how small, is still progress.

I was finally in my balcony today, although without the cup of tea. The sky wasn’t orange, it was grey. And the wind blew blaring horns and revs from the main road towards me. Not the ideal escape I was looking for.

So I turn around and walk towards the hall, where my partner is setting up the table. I settle down and take in the view in front of me. A home-cooked meal after an hour of workout, a clean kitchen, and my favourite person sitting across from me. I’d call today a win. 

Sometimes, all we can and need to do is put one foot in front of the other. I hope you remember that.

Wishing you a kinder and more fulfilling year ahead.

Your dearest,

Me

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This blog post is part of the Let's Say Hello 2023 Blogging Activity hosted by Swarnali Nath. 

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