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The Pandemic Helped Me Prioritize What Truly Matters: People & Joy

The future is uncertain, so live the life you love while you can.

“Next year, I promise to visit you on your birthday, wherever in the world you may be,” I tell my best friend as we end our video call on a bittersweet note.

Haven’t we all been saying exactly this since coronavirus hit us six months ago? When this is all over…(blah, blah, fill up your own bucket list)

But I’ve said exactly this even in a sans-virus world. For instance, that friend I promised I’d visit for her birthday (anywhere in the world), I have missed the last three of her birthdays. In a row. Can I think of any good reason why? Absolutely not. (Bad friend, Natasha)

I lost plenty of opportunities in the past for no reason other than “I will do this next month or next year when I have more money, more vacation days, and lesser stress and responsibilities.” (If you tell me that you haven’t done this too, I’ll pull out my magic mirror and show you a liar)

Have you too spent the last five-odd years laying the foundation of the life you want after five-odd years? Cause I did. While my life was fine, that’s all it was. Just fine. And this paves way for the next musing.

If we love our present simply because we believe that our future will be better because of it — can we really say that we’re ‘living’?

Existing amidst a pandemic, fighting tooth and nail to survive, made me question my entire existence. Only when the future I was walking toward was taken away, did I realize that my present barely resembles the life I would’ve envisioned for myself. Why is it that we keep waiting to truly live another day and keep watching life pass us by?

Do We Have the Life We Love or Do We Just Learn to Love the Life We Have?

I had been living away from home for work, alone in a city where I knew no one. I’d come home to my space, breathe in the heavenly solitude, party till I wanted, walk around the house smoking a cigarette in just my T-shirt, and lived a fulfilling life on my own terms.

I was naive about the rusty flip side of that shiny little coin. I lived in the house of strangers who I called family. Came home to reheated food and empty walls. Slept in a cold, hauntingly empty bed filled with dozens of cushions to feel homely. Day after day, I came ‘home’ only to wish I could be Home.

Only when the circumstances changed, did I realize what I apparently loved wasn’t what I wanted? I was clinging to the hope that this will get me closer to the life I want and that kept me going. That’s all one ever wants, isn’t it? The guarantee that our future is certain and secured. Spoiler: It will never be. Even when it feels like it is, it isn’t.

When Did it Become Okay to Skip the Good and Bad Days That Matter to Our Loved Ones?

I can write up a list of my sins. I’ve barely visited home thrice in the past year. Rarely saw my friends, family, and boyfriend — who all lived in the same city. I haven’t traveled anywhere in the last three years.

Here’s a summary of the good days I missed — the birthdays of everyone who matter to me, Christmas with my family, and my first Valentine with my boyfriend (cheesy, but hey, still important). I wasn’t there on the bad days either. Like when my mother was sick and couldn’t get out of bed for days. Or when my dad slipped while taking the stairs and injured his knee and ankle.

There was no pandemic back then. All my dates would’ve worked for a quick weekend trip, the financials might have been a stretch but would’ve worked out. I skipped them anyway. I kid you not, I can’t come up with any solid reason for any of it. (Aghh. Bad person alert?)

The Little Things We Let Slide Can Make All The Difference

How we’re living in the pandemic versus how I lived before is the same barring the fact that now it isn’t a choice. I’d power through the week and rarely step out of my house on weekends. I would video call my people, order my groceries online, and Netflix with a glass of wine, weekend after weekend. (Look it up, it’s called solitude)

I lost out on a lot of happiness while I lived away. Like Sunday brunches with the fam. Nights I couldn’t spend with my boyfriend or have heart-to-hearts with my sister. The bars I didn’t hit with my girl gang. To make matters worse, my dog would lick the phone on video calls and whine sadly cause she missed me (that’s it, this is the point where I’m officially a terrible person).

Let that sink in. The little joys of everyday life that we miss and don’t even acknowledge until we can’t do them anymore.

More Money Just Ensures Longer Survival Not Happiness

As hard as it may be to admit, I’ve always been quite the money-chaser (yeah well, judge me all you want). I am also quite the spendthrift. Contrary to popular belief, whoever said ‘money can’t buy happiness’ knew how to shop. They shopped an entire world’s worth before they concluded that (I may not be rich enough to say this but the rich ones tried and tested and failed. Just believe them).

The more money I made, the more I spent and the more I wanted. Rented bigger spaces, bought fancier stuff, made my closet fuller with all the pretty little things, for what?

Motivational speakers and life coaches would say — ‘to fix the gaping hole in my life’. Well, it didn’t feel like that either so I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that money isn’t the answer. It’s a security blanket that we must have. But there are bigger things. Like people.

We rarely notice how often we take people for granted, probably because we do it unconsciously. My boyfriend visited for a week, I took an off day for half of it (bad girlfriend, too?). A friend was in town for a few days and I didn’t meet her because she was on the other side of town and I was tired after a long day at work (bad friend, established).

We know how deep into the waters we are only when terrible things happen to us. When my relationship ended on a brutal note, I was alone, in a lockdown-ridden world — battled depression, severe anxiety, and panic attacks that left me lying on my bathroom floor for hours, all alone. (Relax, this isn’t some sob story, don’t feel sorry for me. Focus on how this turned out to be a rude awakening). This was not done to me. I did this to me.

Now I live at home but my parents and I have grown apart from all the years of living away. I’m about 15 miles away from that boyfriend who is now an ex (obviously) and 120 miles away from my best friend who’s about to leave the country (FML?). My dog, who lived and breathed for me, has now latched herself onto my sister instead (Her unloving me, I totally deserve).

This is probably when my therapist would point out “You can get everything you want without it ever being your version of it.”

Most of us millennials, live to work. Ironically, the work we worshipped fired people left, right, and center the moment the pandemic hit. Why did we let success and money jeopardize our relationships, happiness, and life?

So today, I would tell you to live. Stop waiting and pay attention to your little joys. Light that fancy candle, scribble in that pretty notebook, and treat yourself to that trip you’ve wanted to take since forever. See your loved ones often and tell them you love them while you still can.

Life has to be lived happily. Now, not in the future. Not for the future and definitely not in the hope of it.

Up until now, my priorities were clearly messed up. But maybe it takes a lot of chaos and maddening uncertainty to understand what you need. Do what you love and remember that the love and joy you share with people in your life matters most. Nothing else will guarantee a happy future. On a poetic note, happiness is a constant you create, every day.

When this pandemic ends, do not let even one day of your life resemble these. (Did you notice how I did it again? Hoped for a better future? Well, that’s what you and I gotta not do.).

So I’ll rephrase. As long as this pandemic lasts, make the best of it too, in any way that you can. Live a little. Then live a little more.

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