I woke up finding multiple reasons to be annoyed on the very last day of 2017. My mom left her alarm on and disturbed my sleep; when I gave up sleeping and checked my phone instead, I did not see a message I was expecting… just to name a couple. These triggered an onslaught of negative thoughts, more reasons to feel discontent.
I was ready to have a bad end to this year, but then I surprised myself.
A photographer friend of mine once wrote on his Facebook status. “To produce great pictures is to see the world in more interesting ways.”
He argued that gadgets and filters can only take you so far, but whether or not your pictures speak to the beholders, it all depends on how interesting you are. It is a sum of the books you’ve read, the movies you’ve seen, the music you’ve listened to, the people you’ve met, and the paths you’ve trodden.
I penned my 2017 Resolutions during an 11-hour transit in Hong Kong back in January. I didn’t have any notebook with me, so I had to write them down on a scrap paper.
Sitting by a glass wall that overlooks the tarmac, illuminated by the setting sun, it was one of those light bulb moments when words just flow. I was hopeful. Not unlike the sun that set shortly after, however, my resolutions that it fueled soon died out.
Here’s how it happened and how I restarted my resolutions back to life in three essential steps.
Like in many love affairs, I never intended to actually fall in love with you. It was something that just happened. At first, it was mere good fun: exhilarating, intoxicating, addictive. We had no expectations, except for that we were not meant to last. We greeted each other, set no boundaries, and unreservedly explored the depth of the other.
Details were blurry, but I remember every emotion that surged through me. I was happy. Contemplative. Independent. Confident. Self-conscious. Carefree. I was alive.
I loved who I was when I was with you. And with our love affair, so began mine with life.
Like I said, 2016 was the most confusing period of my life so far.
I got tattoos — three of them. I developed an unlikely obsession with a Korean boy group, Bangtan Sonyeondan (BTS). I questioned my faith. I started thinking that maybe… I didn’t want kids. I suffered from anxiety, especially at work. I was lonely, but wouldn’t reach out to anyone. I thought I wasn’t good enough. I felt like on the brink of depression.
I didn’t know they were signs of what most likely was a quarter-life crisis. This was how the year went by:
Ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking.
I now have a better reading of our situation and need to inform you that we are changing direction.
Part of reclaiming your life is knowing what you want to do with it professionally. And never have I thought that in my early twenties, I would be faced with the question, ‘Do you see yourself playing an integral part in this company’s growth in the next five years?’.
In other words, if I’m interested in being in it for the long haul, going more into the management side and helping run the company. Just between you and me, that is not the question that we millennials should be grappling with so early in life, right?
Wrong.
So, you’ve made your way into the marsh. Welcome!
I made ‘Into the Marsh’ as a memoir of how I continuously try to reclaim my life. And paid quite a hefty sum to secure the domain to cut short any excuse I may have to put it off. “You pay in US dollar every year for this website; you’d better quit lazying around and do something with it!”
You might ask, then, why do I need to reclaim my life? And perhaps, are you in need of doing exactly the same?
IntotheMarsh 