Anything but what I should be doing

I was sure I was not the only one who always wanted to do any- and every-thing other than what I was supposed to be doing, but never really understood why, until it suddenly dawned on me. It's the professionalism that every damn activity has reached in this world today. You would not be doing something unless you were a pro, or were in the process of becoming one. Were it otherwise, you would surely be paying an opportunity cost because everybody else in the world would be making better use of their time. (Comment: the learning process itself is a well-defined activity too, and you would be doing it only if you had the pro-level learning aptitude).

The problem then is that you don't allow your mind to breathe. You don't let it run free and land somewhere. You beat and mold it into what you "should" be doing now. You kill down all scope of creativity. You take out the element of choice. While you should have been the master, you become a slave. If you're lucky, you may still be doing what you wanted, but at any rate, it's no longer "you" doing it. The effect is that when do finally get down to doing it, it demands the very professionalism you were trying to escape when it was that "other" thing you wanted to do. That's not how it was when I was a child.

I beg. I beg to be free. Let me free. Please, let me free. Let me choose. Let me soar. Let my mind breathe. Let my heart and actions be one. Let my life be mine, and yours yours. Once again.

Obsession is bliss.

You learn about life as you live, and the other way round. Learning and living are in bijection. One doesn't beat the other. Living probably stays a step ahead most of the times, but not always. This figment is one such case in my perpetual discussion on life and its purpose.

You are born innocent and ignorant, though programmed with some "fore-knowledge". Then comes your first acquisition of worldly knowledge in the form or material perception. You learn about a few "things" and, unknowingly, obsess with some. In the next stage, you learn about "obsession" as an article itself, along with another multitude of non-materials. That's exciting, and you also know you're "excited". You're probably an adolescent now. You spend the next couple of years tearing the hair from all metaphysics and, in varying choices, teach yourself to master some of these meta-articles. Desire was definitely one such for me.

I taught myself, or so I think, to make my desires voluntary, and to be indifferent. Voluntary, I said. That is the demon in hiding. When you finally do encounter it, things begin to fall apart like never before. You doubt all that learning and principles you developed on your first meet with the meta-world. You doubt the very foundation of it. And if you happen to read "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" somewhere around this time, things only get worse.

You don't know anymore why "reason" should be superior to "feel". You're not sure why you wanted that control over your desires really. The control is not the bother. It's what to do with it. There isn't a straight direction to take. In fact, I don't know if there is any objective to life at all on which to base your decisions with that sacred control you so worshiped. And you think, think and think but it gives you no lead. All you wish now is to be that innocent and ignorant self again, governed by involuntary nature-programmed emotions; to be no longer holding that leash to yourself. And be obsessed once again, without reason. And to live in it than the void.