I was talking to a friend online the other day, and I mentioned to him a thought I had had. It occurred to me that every time we manage to do something we've wanted to do, each time we manage to finally obtain something, it's done. It's over. A little piece of purpose is chipped off of us, and looking at it that way, it can be a little sad.
I thought of this as I finished my RoundTrip earlier this month. You see, I was thinking "I just fulfilled one of the main wants of my life: to travel all around the world". I had done it. I had traveled across 12 different countries, I met people from different cultures, heard them speak different languages, tasted different food from all over, and proved to myself that I was indeed capable of doing it. I had thoroughly completed my goal.
And it was already over. I looked into myself, and I found that goal had disappeared. It was no longer a main concern, I did not care much whether I ever got to do something like that again. And a feeling of new nostalgia mixed with a little confusion took me by surprise. Was I not happy? I thought I was happy - I had fulfilled one of my life's main goals!
But then I realized something quite obvious, but I think I had seldom rationalized it before. A goal is a purpose, and when you complete a goal, it vanishes, and a little bit of your purpose also fades away. And then you are left with a slight incompleteness, a little internal awkwardness, keeping habits and thoughts that you built around and upon your completed goal, and that now, you realize, have also lost their purpose. I'm not saying it's bad, and I'm sure that people do not even realize this most of the time, but for me, it was slightly enlightening; by thinking of this, I learned something else.
Life goes on. That's what I learned. It's such an obvious concept too, and I wonder if I'm an anomaly by not realizing these things before. But that's what I learned. Having been raised with childrens' movies and PC adventure games, I had not realized that I am an unconscious but firm believer in happy endings. Movies are like that. The story begins, the characters are introduced, and then a problem arises. This problem must be solved. How to solve it? The movie tells you how. Somehow the characters choose to solve this problem, so they seek solutions, they escape from danger, and finally, they complete it. They win. Luke Skywalker destroys the Death Star. Neo realizes he is The One. Cinderella marries the prince. Frodo destroys the Ring. The kids are unshrunk and resized back to normal. Harry Potter kills Lord Voldemort. Lola runs and saves her boyfriend. Awesome. But what happens AFTER? The movie ends, of course. You throw away your popcorn bag and return to your own life. But what about the characters? Uhhh, I dunno... they're just... happy? They live their lives on, happier? Well, being characters, they don't need to extend their stories.
But real people do. Our life doesn't just "end" like the movie, whenever you finish your great, precious goal. It just goes on, unaware even that you were expecting some kind of superb finale from it. And that has internally always stirred me. At the moment of great achievements in my life, I somehow expect more of a kick to occur, but none appears. I won a full scholarship to a good high school, I won 1st place in the National Mathematics Olympiad, and life just went on. I made it into the guatemalan team for the International Mathematics Olympiad, and life just went on. I obtained an Honorary Mention in the IMO, and life just went on. I graduated from high school with the 4th highest grades in the class, and life just went on. I saw snow for the first time, and life just went on. I made a bungee-jump on a bridge, and life just went on. I got my first internship at a big company, and life just went on. I got my Bachelor's degree in Computer Science, and life just went on. I got my first girlfriend and kissed her, and life just went on. I had sex for the first time, and life just went on. I traveled all around the world, and life just went on. And on. And on. And on, and on, and on, and on, and on.
I can slightly identify with the painting "The Scream" by one of those old famous painters, Van Gogh or Monet or someone, when I think of these things. You know the painting? The one in orange, bluish, and brownish colors where a guy on a bridge, with a background of the sky and people walking, is grabbing his wavily-distorted face with both his hands, screaming, as if he was trying to escape from Life, but unable to do so, trapped in existence, cursed to live on. That's how I sometimes feel. Sometimes I get the impression that things should just, somehow, "end"... if you're done with your purpose, why go on? But the nature of life is to exist continuously, there's no pause button. No way to stop this existence of ours. (Excepting the obvious suicide, of course).
But then, of course, new goals take the place of those fulfilled. It's what happens. A person needs to do SOMEthing, and this easily results in the creation of shiny new goals for yourself. And the cycle begins again...
I guess that what I'm trying to say, briefly, is what I already said four paragraphs ago: Life goes on. For the better or for the worse. It just does. What to do about it? Live. In whichever way you best see fit. Obvious, isn't it? Yeah, I take some time to realize these primal concepts.
