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A dog named Crab

Once Annie described the typical life progression a way I still found agreeable:

As a child, you’re told what to do by your parents. Then school becomes your main goal, all the way to the end of your educational journey. Then you find a job and become independent. Then you’re completely free. A thrilling and terrifying feeling.

I thought I knew what I wanted. I landed a great job, started to save some money, got some romantic satisfaction, traveled a bit, got myself some nice shoes… and then I sat on that bench in Tokyo on my 25th birthday.

Since then I got married, had a kid, and bought a house. I resumed the progression through the establishment of the Western way of life. It makes sense, conceptually. It doesn’t come without pain but the shared conceptual basis is so strong that it’s easy to reframe.

I’m still shocked at how silly I was just a few years ago. Contemplating how this will be true until the end, is equally shocking.

Maturity is not reached through a set of cathartic milestones, tipping moments of acknowledgment, eurekas.

I thought having a child would be one of those. It wasn’t. Life has been a slow drama, that feels intense in the moment, but pathetic in retrospect. A sort of type 2 fun thing where the satisfaction comes long after the challenge.

My deepest contemplative moments were almost always while outside or stretching. Often after a stressful situation. Just like my best pumps were in the kitchen while doing set while cooking.

I thought I was a weirdo that thrived on inadequate pairings. Today I viscerally know I'm not alone. A few days ago I met a dog named Crab.

There is something to it. It’s just not grand or philosophically satisfying.

← Index / Published on 2024-03-12