Why so serious?
October 27, 2012
Trips offer opportunities to experiences oneself in unfamiliar environments. One’s character set against a new backdrop to reveal details that were obscured before. In the urban wilderness of New Orleans, I recognize myself to be so often unnecessarily serious, weighted by life. I carry the miseries and hardships of the world on my shoulders. Why?
I think back in time, and remember that before the age of eight, I was not a deeply concerned, miserable child. To the contrary, I was bright, beaming, exuberant, creative, aloof. But the grandest of relocations across the Pacific Ocean to Vancouver from Tehran did much to change my experience of life. Seeing my struggling parents desperately trying to build a stable future for their young babies, feeling myself to be a foreigner in so many ways against a sea of light-colored skin, fair hair, blue eyes and impeccable houses…
This experience changed me, weighed on me. Nothing would ever be the same. Everything simple, quaint, pleasant would from this moment on be criticized, analyzed to discover the pain behind. It has been hard for me to feel deserving of much luxury and richness because I cannot help but be reminded of those who live with much much less.
But worry solves no problems. And wallowing in what is not right only exaggerates that which is wrong.
The world may be at times a dark and rough place, but only as much as it is beautiful and inspiring. At times, I become so weighed down by the hardships I imagine others less fortunate than me must endure that I cannot see myself as deserving more and better things. I imagine that there are limited sources of “good” in the world, and if I am to be happier and receive more of this “good” somebody, somewhere will lose some “good.”
I live in Oakland, a city heavy with history and memories of great injustices that are perpetuated everyday before my eyes. And, yet, the very reason I so love living in Oakland is not for its history of pain, but for the beauty that shines through the broken cracks – for the tiny gems that are borne out of the pressure of living.
So, I resolve to take myself and my concerns less seriously. I resolve to cease wallowing in sadness, and instead be moved to action. From Eeyore to Tigger, all in a week’s time.