I once posted this on my Instagram account:
I just… don’t want to live ambitiously; I just want to live quietly in this world, doing the things I love, spending life in my own way.
This statement sounds so full of definite certainty, but it’s still kinda unclear, isn’t it?
I’m not trying to impress anyone. Honestly, this thought stands out the most amidst my own doubts and insecurities, a persisting existence like a moonlight in the blackest of the night. The Earth keeps rotating on its own axis, the world keeps on turning around endlessly, and its people will also keep on moving, changing, and growing. Possibly and presumably and generally, us in their twenties are having the busiest times of our lives: We are trying to define our places in this world, having goals that are becoming more refined and concrete, continuously challenging ourselves to grow, accumulating a stock of decisions and plans that are now becoming clearly illustrated more than ever, waiting to be commenced.
So… you see, as someone who’s in her twenties, I feel a little bit guilty when I think about slowing down to just… breathe.
My initial response is something along this line, “Is it a sin to desire a laid-back life while everyone around me is thinking of a glorious future studded with glorious achievements?” It was pressing me down, the sheer volume of the thought alone in my head, making me pause for a little longer than necessary to at least comprehend what I really wanted deep down inside. What it meant when I, despite of me frequently entertaining the idea of building a humble and laid-back life, was still feeling slightly envious of people, of friends who had glimmering career paths, those who pursued higher education, those who moved out overseas…
‘Til I find silence.
Guess this world is just too loud… because I’m in need of more space and silence. This overwhelming world we live in oftentimes feels so equally distracting that my mind is over-saturated with both necessary and unnecessary bits. I’m surrounded with a number of options but instead of feeling excited, turns out I cannot bring myself closer to pick a definite one because of one thing and another.
Admittedly, I wasn’t like that before. I had no difficulties in choosing my high school, my preferred major in uni, then my thesis mentor. I didn’t have a second thought when I applied for my first job in a newspaper company, and was indeed proud when I got in right away. I was a decisive person who was so sure of my own self and confident with my own choices and where they would bring me to.
Yet now, I’m in the state of searching again.
Like an unmoored ship, I could feel myself bobbing on the water surface, indecisive, quiet. In the middle of my own crowded thoughts, though, one wish to create a humble life of my own has subtly emerged and is gaining strength. Setting the actualisation aside, I guess, this aim and want should be a clue enough for me to get my bearing once again.