Life Happens
For my entire life, the idea of “living a life” has always seemed like a far-away problem — a matter for tomorrow. Each period of my life was lived for the next: what I did in high school was for undergrad; what I did in undergrad was for grad school; what I did in grad school was for being a professor… and I would become a professor, my end goal, but then what? All the while, I was not happy. My entire life was dedicated to math and computer science. I started this path at the age of 16. How was I supposed to know anything at 16 years old? So I kept trudging onwards, expecting life to simply happen.
On I went until the very last step: my PhD. I disregarded everyone and everything else. Again, how was I supposed to know that other people are important? That sounds like a silly question, but I really didn’t know. All I ever knew was conservative Christianity, two streets constituting a downtown, and the internet. The Christian world was not for me. Two streets can get old. And what kind of life is lived on the internet? But that’s all I knew. So that’s all I did, the same as everyone else I knew. We all followed our designated roads, unsure and unaware of what the future might hold. I can only speak for myself, of course, but I don’t believe I was alone in my unhappiness. However, I was aware of it. In my experience — in today’s world — distraction is our salvation. Who would dare to be aware of their own thoughts in the absence of other people or electronic distractions?
Just because I was aware of it didn’t mean anything. I didn’t understand it, either. It took me giving up everything out of desperation and moving to Iceland to gain that understanding. First was awareness, then understanding, but the most difficult part was then action: How am I supposed to address these issues I have come to understand? I could say that writing, for me, is a piece of that solution. That would be neglecting something very important, though: How did I start writing? It began with poetry, that I did on my own. Writing, on the other hand, was something that simply “happened.” And it is through this “happening” that I, at long last, came to understand the world.
Everything simply happens. Did I spend many years suffering with no idea what to do? Yes. But it was that experience which made me give everything up and move to Iceland. Which didn’t go very well. I only suffered even more because I had gained understanding. It was the idea that I didn’t know what to do about it that was so difficult to reconcile. Nevertheless, I wanted to fix things, to fix myself. I wanted to but didn’t know how. That is when life happened. First, everything went wrong. But I never gave up. I kept trying. I’ll never forget the feeling of moving to Iceland for the second time, when I arrived in my temporary accommodations, realizing that I have no plan. I wanted to come back, I thought, but why? What was I hoping would happen, moving to a foreign country with no home, no job, and no people… again?
I happened to stay rather far from downtown Reykjavík. I checked the map to see if there was anything around me. I clicked on a library for no reason. I clicked on its website for no reason. I checked the events, found a weekly language meetup, and worked myself up to go — it was my third day back in the country. Only one other person came. I invited him to lunch after. We became friends. I started going every week (in a different location with many people). I invited other people to lunch. I met more people, made more friends. One person helped me get an apartment right away — after I had struggled and struggled to find something on my own. All the while, I worked on rebuilding the connections I had made previously. Ones I had neglected and let go. It all went well, to my surprise. Thus, life happened.
Why did things go well? Because I tried. For me, it was my best. I could have done more. I could have done better. But I tried. And I’m still trying. I’m doing my best, and that is what allows life to happen. The fascinating part is looking at the series of events which led to my laying the foundations of a life here. I could write an entire book on how each and every little thing that happened during this time created this world in which I am now part of. Every little thing and minor interaction suddenly gains profound meaning and significance. For the most part, it started with that simple “accident” of happening to click on a library on a map.
Going back to the idea of me becoming a writer, the circumstances were of pure failure. Failing to live a life made me a writer, and that same failure — later — gave me a life. Furthermore, the beauty of putting my inner world into writing and sharing that with the outer world is that it gives a means of connection — something I have lacked my entire life. That, and a better understand of myself and humanity.
Now for the great question: How does life happen? I speak from my own experience: Every single thing that happens is for a reason. You don’t need a plan. You don’t need to know what to do or how to do it. “Success” and “failure” are meaningless words with no grounding in reality. Life pushes you wherever you need to be, so do whatever you want. If you want to do something, then do it. Just try. Whatever the outcome, it’s for a good reason. The universe only asks for one thing in return: that you be a good person — for your own sake. Be a good person, and act. Nothing will happen unless you take action. The outcome is irrelevant. Just try, and embrace whatever happens; life knows best: resisting is what causes suffering.
As for me, do I know what to do now, after all I have learned and experienced? Not at all. Do I trust the universe to the point where I am at peace with everything? Not at all. Am I happy? Not entirely. But I’m not unhappy. The universe has a twisted sense of humor. It dangles happiness in front of us, just out of reach. As we step towards it, that happiness is pulled away, in another direction. At first, we call that “unfairness,” cause for unhappiness. But, with proper understanding, we can learn to call that purpose.
I wrote another book in December. The irony is that mostly everything I wrote in this post came after writing that book. Writing has taught me a lot, as has reading. One last important piece of advice is to be open and honest. You’re not alone in anything. You would be surprised by other people. Give them a chance. It only requires that you give yourself a chance by not holding back. I was scared to put myself out there, but that has been the best choice I have ever made.