Five weddings and the funeral of pain

Five wedding invites for the year, and counting.

I received the fifth one a few days ago. Unfortunately, for practical and personal reasons, I won’t be able to cross the ocean for it come November and so I sent my thanks and regards anyway. It got me wondering however, if my life had suddenly taken a turn that I wasn’t aware of. And if this course is something I am still in control of. I am not in the habit of making Plan Bs. In that sense, I am a fate-alist. But I’ve always thought fate is what you make of it. As days go by, I wonder if I made the right decision two years ago to stay here for more studying.

The funny thing is that, as I keep wondering about these things, the accompanying feeling of possible regret, likewise recedes into memory. It is not that I am being presentist, but maybe only realistic. Up until maybe a year ago, I was dead certain I haven’t had any regrets in life, but perhaps I shouldn’t really bet a house on that anymore. People are getting a life. I, on the other hand, ponder my days with what Hirohito could have felt while declaring himself human. Or why on earth stupid people invade others for an abstract principle.

It seems however I am drawn to such musings. So maybe this is why the well of emotions inevitably run dry. The miracle of life is that it is finite and therefore the challenge is to make it as meaningful as we can. Only a few can have a grand life in its entirety, but everybody can get those in terms of moments. And that is good. Moments can define a life. The problem is we don’t know what those moments are beforehand. This should be a source of comfort or God forbid, hope even, for mortals like me. The philosopher Gabriel Marcel said it best: to hope is to recognize the limitations in situations, while believing that opportunities also exist. Hope and despair arise out of the same condition. The funny thing is that while it ostensibly gives you a choice – there seems to be unseen forces that drives you to one instead of the other. 

My best friend tells me that I, more than any other person she knows, have been trained the longest for delayed self-gratification. I can get through whatever. She probably meant that my happiest moments came at a time when I least expected them to happen. Kind of like Cleveland landing LeBron back in 2003. But truth be told, I feel like the Cleveland of 2010. For now at least, I ain’t a witness anymore.