up in the air.

[Author's Note: The following blog was inspired by the Jason Reitman film, 'Up in the Air', which stars George Clooney. A movie encompassing yet another man's snippet of solitude.]

~~~

The young man sits at his desk, browsing through his Facebook – the most intimate means of interpersonal interactions. He notices a message from a friend through his newsfeed, signifying that his tally of four is in fact a tally of five. Five weddings in a single month. A record of sorts. Maybe it’s the Spring air. Maybe it’s the season. Whatever the case, the fact of the matter remains – five weddings for five couples. People from his hometown. Couples he is more than well acquainted with. Yet in spite of this, he only received two invitations – and had declined both in quick succession.

He sits there wondering, waiting, wishing, pondering. Is it all worth it? Is this the path that he really dreamed of all those years ago?

As night embraces him with it’s silver-pinioned wings, it envelopes him with an intoxicating drowsiness. He fights to stay awake – but all in vain.

~~~

As he opens his eyes, he sees himself on a plane coupled with an urgent sense to flee – from what, he does not know. He looks to his right, to the person sitting next to him, and strikes up a conversation as he always does in such circumstances.

“So why are you here young man? And is this what you really want?” asks the stranger.

“Ummmm what do you mean?” the young man replies, perplexed.

“Well, you’re running away again aren’t you?”

“Running away? No I’m not! I’m on my way to Rwanda to do some work that is part of my PhD!”

“So you say? But deep down inside, aren’t you running away? What I mean to say is, aren’t you fleeing from commitment, relationships, and bonding closely with a core group of friends and family?”

“What… Ummm… Hummm… How dare you say that! I’m not running away! I mean, I want those things, though I guess I’ve steered my life in a direction that avoids them at the same time… I mean, I don’t know… Deep down inside there is a part of me that yearns for that, but at the same time it yearns for the opposite.”

“How so?” asks the stranger.

“Well,” answers the young man, “I guess I don’t want to be alone. I guess I don’t want to be living up in the air. But… But… There’s nothing else for me!? This is all I know. My life has built up a momentum in this direction and outside of it, there is nothing I can do. I don’t know if I really want this, but this is all I have left in front of me!”

“But what if…” answers the stranger.

What if indeed…

opportunity lost.

 

After one amazing date and an aftermath of 99 exchanged messages – he finally decides that its time to bring this daydream to a close. As far as the dating game goes, he’s never made it this far. Maybe that’s why he now finds himself stuck in a predicament of hopelessness and indecision.

‘I really don’t know what I’m doing… I really wasn’t lying when I told her that “I don’t often do this, but….” ‘

Was he too heavy on the SMS-front? Should he have done something more – or less?

When all is said and done, he decides that the most prudent form of action will be to back off and let her be. ‘Maybe we weren’t compatible to begin with?’ he says to himself.

But the question still lingers… ‘What if?’

misplaced chivalry.

 

[Author's Note: The following scenes occurred with three different women. Yes, I know I'm an idiot... So sue me!]

……………………

Scene 1

The crunch of snow echoes along the alley to her apartment. They both find themselves at the entrance as snowflakes gently scatter around them.

‘Thanks so much for taking me to my apartment! Honestly though, you didn’t have to escort me all the way from your place to mine,’ she says to him.

‘Nah. It’s okay. You were a guest at my place so it’s the least I could do.’

And with that they say their goodbyes. She walks up the stairs to her room, as he makes his way to the tram stop for the journey home.

‘Why did I just do that?’ he says to himself. ‘No matter, it must be done.’

……………………

Scene 2

The frigid air breezes past as they walk through the lonely streets. It’s been 30 or so minutes since they left the bar, but they have finally made it to the entrance.

‘Thanks for taking me back to my place. You really didn’t have to!’ she remarks.

‘No, it doesn’t matter. Don’t mention it!’ he replies.

‘You know … Not many guys would’ve gone this far to see a girl home.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘But it must be done!’

……………………

Scene 3

After dinner at his place, she grabs her coat and begins to make a move.

‘Thanks so much for dinner, but it’s late and I really should be going now,’ she says.

‘Ah, no worries. Allow me escort you to the train station though. You are my guest after all!’

They take a tram to Gare Cornavin, before making their way to Platform 2. Finding a vacant bench, they sit together, patiently waiting for her train home. They fill the silences with puzzle pieces of conversation, gradually fit together to form a vague picture from which to understand each other.

Soon the train arrives. He places his hand upon her knee and wishes her a safe trip home. After a short embrace she is on her way back to her apartment, as he is left standing – wondering – what that all just meant.

……………………

Epilogue

He sits alone in his room – slowly sipping on a cup of Moroccan mint tea, mixed with a nip of brandy – busily typing away.

‘What on Earth was the point of all that?’ he remarks to himself.

‘Oh well,’ he shrugs, ‘It had to be done!’

Or did it?

……………………

confessions of a workaholic.

 

I’ve recently discovered something that I didn’t know about myself. Please bear with me, for it has much to do with my extended absence from this blog.

Only in the past week have I discovered that I am a workaholic. Such a thought would’ve been laughable if you were to suggest that to the “me” of 5 years past. But, as loyal readers would know, much can change in the span of 5 years. The moment of discovery occurred during the last few weeks. I recently came into my office after a week-long trip in my hometown of Perth. My work colleague and room-mate had thoughtfully left a memo (see above) on the middle of my computer monitor. I had bought him this “Shit List” memo as a joke for his birthday – but (as with many things in life) the joke was on me.

To be honest, he had made a rather astute observation – something that I had been blinded from recognising myself. Namely, the fact that I was a *shudder* workaholic. I had never once considered myself privy to such a state of affairs, mainly because my circumstances had hidden it until late. Before, I was living a full-to-the-brim kinda life which revolved around part-time work, thesis, study and whatever I could (barely) fit in between. I had even taken so much on my plate that I was forced to withdraw from my thesis at the end of 2010 and re-enrol for the summer semester of 2011. I viewed it as normal – as a natural extension of the life I had chosen.

I ended up submitting my thesis at the end of February in the hope that my lifestyle would improve dramatically and with the expectation that I would once again have the time to pursue my own interests and hobbies.

But I didn’t…

The moment I submitted my thesis was the moment I converted my part-time research contract to a full-time contract. I ended up finding myself working long hours during weekdays and even on weekends – working long, unpaid hours because there was always something that needed to be done.

And there lied the error of my ways…

The breaking point occurred when I recently woke up uttering the words F-M-L! In a loud, unequivocal manner. I had to chide myself immediately after, but it did get me to thinking, “What have I become?”

Years of university education and (a certain amount of) overachievement had left me with a dangerous inaptitude – the inability to find balance and to learn when to draw the line.

I recently complained to a number of friends of my predicament. Expressing in no uncertain terms just how unhappy I was with my current quality-of-life.

And so, this post marks a turning point. I have made the effort to devote a whole weekend to myself and to my own interests … And it has been a Godsend. I even had the opportunity to think of a few ideas for this blog – something that hasn’t occurred in a long time, mainly due to all the commitments and work that I have unwittingly heaped upon myself.

So here’s to the attainment of balance and to the casting aside of my workaholic ways…

 

incongruence (part ii).

 

‘But it’s not so bad /You’re only the best I ever had / You don’t want me back / You’re just the best I ever had’

~“Best I Ever Had” by Vertical Horizon

 

They sit alone in the room as an all pervading silence fills the air. She fidgets with her hair, staring intently at the split ends she discovered 30 seconds ago. He sits quietly, fed up with trying to bring up topics of conversation that she doesn’t want to pursue.

It is then that she suddenly reveals a startling revelation. Words he never imagined he would ever hear uttered from those very lips…

‘I still miss you a lot you know! It was all a mistake! I shouldn’t have gone out with him … I should have stayed with you instead. I don’t know why I did it!’

He sits in stunned silence, taken aback by the sudden admission.

‘I miss what we had.’ she continues. ‘I want us to go back to the way we were, or at least to be friends again.’

‘I … I … I’m sorry! I can’t. I just can’t do it. I mean, why? Why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier all those months ago? Why didn’t you tell me this when I desperately wanted you to say it? It’s … It’s too late now. I mean, it took so many painful months for me to finally get over you. And I don’t intend to go down that path again anytime soon.’

She sinks into her chair, noticeably subdued.

He continues.

‘Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to hold on to what happened in the past. To me, it’s water under the bridge. I want us to start with a clean slate again.’

Her eyes light up. He notices.

‘But at the same time, I don’t think we can just go back to being friends right now. I need a break. I need time to get my head sorted.’

~~~

They ended up leaving on “good terms” that night. But little did he know that this ‘water under the bridge’ would set in motion a series of complications with some old friendships and lead to a future that he would never have conceived possible at the time. But such is the way life goes, and such is the sentence for one who was oh so young and oh so naive.

Oh … And for the record – the friendship never resumed, but it was probably for the best.

 

incongruence (part i).

 
It’s 10pm. He sits alone at the office staring blankly at the computer screen. He wanted to be productive. He wanted to finish the methods chapter of his honours thesis tonight … But not now, not with this impending distraction.
 
His mobile rings. He answers.
 
‘Yes, I know where you are. I’ll come out and find you.’
 
~~~
 
He steps out into the cool spring air and feels the breeze gently waft over him. Then he catches sight of her, shivering on the veranda. He chokes up a little, but steels himself and walks over to meet her. ‘Be strong man! Ice cold! Ice cold!’ he mutters softly.
 
She greets him as he draws nearer. He says hello and takes one of the drinks she is holding.
 
‘Thanks, but you really shouldn’t have.’
 
‘It’s okay, I was in the area and thought you might like one as well,’ she replies.
 
They continue on with the usual, superficial banter. Any outside observer could see that it is just that – superficial. Awkward and strained at best. It is understandable though as he has not seen her, let alone had a proper conversation with her, in months.
 
She continues to shiver in her stylish, hazelnut-coloured dress. ‘She’s always impeccably dressed,’ he remarks to himself. Though it shouldn’t come as a surprise, given her unashamed passion for everything sartorial.
 
‘It’s cold. Why don’t we go into my office and talk more there?’ he offers.
 
‘Sure…’
 
They step into the building and gradually make their way to the office door. He nervously fumbles with his keys, while wondering why on Earth he agreed to meet her on the phone earlier. Why did he have to change his mind after his initial refusal?
 
But no matter…
 
‘She must have a very good reason for being here, so I may as well go along and enjoy the ride.’
 
The lock on the door retracts. He shows her in and gently shuts the door behind him.
 
~~~
 

Why? Brisbane Why?

 

“Everybody is just a stranger, but that’s the danger in going my own way / I guess it’s the price I’ll have to pay /Still everything happens for a reason / It’s no reason not to ask myself if I am living it right /Am I living it right? / Am I living it right? / Why? Why? Georgia why?”

~‘Why Georgia’ by John Mayer

 
Today I decided to pick up a new song on my guitar. I’m surprised that I had not done so earlier as this particular song has been incredibly influential in my past 2-3 years of existence. It is ‘Why Georgia’ by John Mayer. A song that I like to informally refer to as the ‘Quarter-life Crisis Song’. I first encountered it as a freshman in uni when I listened to John Mayer’s debut album ‘Room For Squares’ in 2003. I never really thought much of it at the time, but I vividly remember linking the song to ‘quarter-life crisis’ – which makes sense seeing as those very words are contained in the song lyrics.
 
It wasn’t until 3 years ago that those words, and the song itself, took on a specific meaning in my life. To cut a long story short, I went through my own quarter-life crisis during that year. I was an early bloomer as I was already burdened by questions like, ‘Where am I going?’, ‘Where am I heading?’, and ‘What am I doing with my life?’, three years before my 25th birthday.
 
In the last few months, I have helped to guide two friends who have recently been experiencing their own quarter-life crises. One on the other side of the world, and the other, a little closer to home (i.e., Brisbane). I like to think that I am past the crisis and all the ensuing questions about life direction, but I have recently been challenged to realign my ideas on the matter.
 
Last week I was encouraged to apply for a research fellowship all the way in Seattle, Washington. At first, I was hesitant. There was a part of me that didn’t want to go. I had bought a car, made a number of close friends in Brisbane, and even started to think of the city as ‘home’. Since I submitted my application, however, I have had to reconsider.
 
I was in the mood to go out tonight and decided to scroll through the saved numbers on my mobile to see if there was anyone available. It was only then that it dawned upon me that my Brisbane contacts were minuscule relative to those living in Perth. Even the quantity of contacts that I obtained during my two-month internship in Geneva were far greater.
 
I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise as my studies and the attainment of good grades have been high on my list of personal priorities – so much so, that I have neglected the expansion of my social networks here in Brisbane. That is not to say that I don’t have good friends here – I do. But at the end of the day, this all brought to mind that I can be happy here or elsewhere. That is, I can be content to continue living here in Brisbane or somewhere (far off) like Seattle, Washington. I guess it all stems from that overwhelming sense of loneliness and of being ‘neither-here-nor-there’ that I can’t seem to shake off.
 
I hope it doesn’t last forever. I really would like to have a place here on Earth called home – and yes, I do acknowledge that my real home is with God in heaven. But still – it’d be nice to have a more permanent settlement during this life here-and-now.
 
It makes me wonder though … What will be the turning point? Will it be a career opportunity? Or will it be a meeting with a special someone? Maybe on the other side of the world? God knows I am yet to meet her here …
 
Hrmmm …