The journey

The journey
Photo by Ales Krivec / Unsplash

Lately, I often find myself wondering about the "journey". "Journey Before Destination", as Brandon Sanderson wrote. I have to get it out of my head for it to take any form, I guess.

First of all, who am I on this journey? A software developer. A man who automates. Creator, modifier. That's why I view myself, at least - as someone whose sole purpose on this world is to adjust parts of it to make life easier for other people. Sometimes it means writing software for banks, sometimes holding the elevator door for someone who wants to get inside. I always said that the whole reason I got for writing software is to make life easier for other people, and it's still true. I'm just lost on anything between me and this purpose.

You see, lately I don't find myself caring about the code I'm paid to write. I have some fun on my side projects, but that's it. I feel distanced from it, and getting into the flow is increasingly difficult. And it's not just code either, it's everything. Cooking, cleaning, changing the towels on the rack of sheets on the bed - It's all something that needs actual effort, instead of being just "something I do". I know, it sounds depressive, but bear with me for a minute.

It all comes to a thought that maybe I'm in too much haste, much like all of this world. For some reason, be it either from Instagram or some Netflix shows, I find myself feeling like I should already be further down the road. Like I should already have more "goals" achieved, whatever they might be. Like I should be "more", get more, find more. Like some of the destinations should already be behind me. I've told my therapist that it's more about the journey and how I feel along the way, and she asked if I ever actually stop to think about where I am on this way and how I feel in this place. I couldn't find an answer.

What does stopping even mean, really? Is it this moment I feel the wind on my face when I step out of my apartment to go to the grocery shop? Is it this minute that I spend on my balcony, coffee in hand, looking at the gray city before returning to three screens and a mountain of tasks and tickets waiting for my attention? Maybe attention is the only thing that this is about, pointing it at something that doesn't actually wait for it. The world just... is, stays where and what it is. Modified, changed, altered by humans on our every step, still maintains it's identity as our home and place we can look at, full of air we can breathe and beauty we can observe.

I suppose that that's all there is to my mistake of how I spend my life. I convinced myself that I never cared what people want or think of me, and I still find myself chained to their attention and needs at work, university and major parts of life. I don't find myself looking at trees and flowers, even though there is nothing stopping me from going out and doing just that. There is just too much pressure to keep doing things, which gets transferred into procrastination anyway, because I can't handle it.

I'm just too fast and too tired for myself and this world, and yet I still ignore the simple solution of just slowing down and focusing more on my "now", then plans and wishes of others.

I suppose there is no real "point" or "end" to this text. I needed to get form something outside of myself, and if it helped you form something for yourself, it's great. I hope we both now go outside and breath whatever air we can, instead of canning ourselves inside and sighing full of frustration and anger.

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