I never really had a journal as a child. I wasn’t reflective and didn’t feel the need to write anything down. I wanted to spend every waking moment playing video games. The closest thing to a journal I had was the Argos catalogue. I remember religiously folding the relevant pages with the games I wanted, nay, needed and pestering my mum about it. Her response was always “inshallah”. That’s Arabic for no. I grew out of that phase at around year 8(12/13). From year 8 on, the only thing that mattered was chatting to my mates. In school and at home (lol MSN). My worldview was shaped by my friends’ worldview. Nothing else mattered. Parents were stupid. Teachers were stupid. Friends were wicked and definitely worth impressing. Childhood provided me with a clarity of thought and purpose. I knew what I wanted and needed, and I went for it.
Year 10 and year 11 were formative for me. I started reading books and was consequently inspired to write some stuff down. Nothing major, just like thoughts here and there. I still write in my journal/s. Between 14 and 16, my journal entries were ideas that were interesting to me. Since 16 though, my entries have been very different.
The key difference I think lies in what I chose to document. One of my history tutors used to go on and on about how sometimes the evidence isn’t in the primary source itself but what the primary source tells us about the state of mind of the people at that time. A journal is supposed to be about your life, your own biography if you like. Tell me why productivity is the sole focus of all my entries. My journal entries for the past 12 years show a human being in a perpetual state of panic. OK, maybe not panic. But definitely something Sisyphean.
Take this entry from November 2013, in which I reflect that “at this rate, I’ll wake up one day and realise that I have wasted my entire life. This cannot keep happening. This has to stop.” I think I had a lie in that day. A LIE IN. Or “I failed my theory test. Never again will I be ill prepared like this.” Bro, chill, it’s really not that deep. But at the time, it seemed deep because my failure to prepare showed a systemic failure in my life. It wasn’t just a test that I failed. It was what this failure said about me. Going through my entries, what becomes apparent very quickly is that I have an almost obsessive occupation with some arbitrary standard of “doing better”. Tomorrow’s Nirvana exists, if only I can stop being terrible is the takeaway. In the journals, I sometimes say vaguely supportive things to myself but they always sound hollow and tepid, like this entry from February 2014 where I tell myself that “I can do this…I can really do this, and even if I can’t, then I needn’t worry myself.” I had exams later that year. Everything is framed in terms of better and tomorrow.
Better is never defined. And yet, like a crazed person, I fall short, record the feeling of falling short, and repeat the process. This arbitrary standard is something that has occupied my psyche since the beginning of my “adult” life. In one sense, it has been incredibly helpful for me, and it got me through some pretty shitty ruts, where there was always something to improve, to work towards and the need to be better provided some overarching narrative that gave temporary meaning. But equally, it’s depressing to think that you will never arrive at Better Station. It doesn’t exist. Countless journals were filled with plans for a better tomorrow, and tomorrow came but it lacked the flavour it promised. You’re carrying an uninspiring rock that you don’t love up a hill and rolling it down and repeating the process every single day. For a better tomorrow, does today need to be a bit naff? When do we start living?
By all counts, I am happy. I have a wonderful relationship with my parents, my siblings and I are close. I’ve got a supportive group of friends that I see regularly. I have a job that I enjoy a lot. I feel satisfied with my lot. But I can’t help but think that I can do so much better. So I should do so much better, and so much more. Speak more languages, be fitter, be more patient with people, loving, travel more, have a better job, read more, etc.
I don’t know if this a symptom of late capitalism, where we all feel lacking, and trying to keep ourselves busy in some elaborate scam about hiding these underlying insecurities. Tomorrow is always the primary justification of any sacrifice even when sacrifices aren’t necessary. And it isn’t just me, friends won’t stop talking about how busy they are, and how they’re not doing enough, and how…we work so hard without really defining why we’re doing what we’re doing and asking the most important question: what about today? Time is quite literally flying. Like voom and we don’t know where the time is going. The stuff I deemed important have changed over the years, and the likelihood is such that the things that I think are important now will probably pass too. Memories don’t.
In this sense, 2018 is off to a good start. In 2018, we’re prioritising people. People are the answer. For so long, I’ve thought of the people in my life as constants and my own self-development as a variable that needed my attention and efforts. It’s probably the same for you. You think of your own family and friends as constant who will probably always be there, and therefore you’ve probably told yourself that they don’t require as much attention. I’m now wondering if this is just capitalism though. Our relationships with people have been defined in terms of things and value exchanges? So much so, that we can’t bring ourselves to just be with them and focus on today. We’re constantly thinking about tomorrow and its promises.
Herein lies, your own little resistance. Or at least some vague symbolic resistance to the premise that we must be productive at all costs, -even when it harms our sense of self and happiness. I really cannot tell you about all the times that I have been productive and I have produced good work. I can tell you about the smile on my dad’s face at my graduation or a trip to Lewisham Shopping Centre ,-the most basic of all shopping centres, -where I shared a pretzel with someone I loved very much, or that time my little sister and nephews/nieces surprised me on the day of my final exam. There is meaning in that. And beyond anything else, it’s about today. You are present.
Worry about tomorrow enough to have a decent quality of life tomorrow but no more than that. Today is all about your loved ones. And making memories. And keeping them.
And cake.
