February 27, 2005

Life on the Run

I suppose the relative infrequency of posts this month should suggest to you how extraordinarily busy I've been. I mean, even in worst of times, I've always managed to pump out at least 3–4 posts a month. Nevertheless, to whine about all the bullshit in my life would be unbecoming of Rohit's Realm, not to mention degrading myself to level of all those pathetic low lives with nothing better to post. Instead, I'll talk about a recent epiphany I experienced as a result of all the craziness of the past month.

Perhaps one of the most complained about aspects of modern life is the inevitable lack of time. Who has time to just relax anymore with work or school or life always consuming our every waking moment, and sometimes, even more? We're all running at full-speed—it's just that most of us aren't going anywhere and even worse, most don't even know where we're supposed to be going or why we're running so damn fast! And yet, having experienced the madness of such a marathon with no time to sleep or eat or rest in the past month, I can't help but wonder if it isn't all by design.

Despite all the bodily harm that comes with this hyperaccelerated lifestyle and the toll it takes on your mental health, the one good thing to come out of it is the conspicuous lack of free time. Wait. Hold on a moment. Isn't this what everyone wants though? Well, is it really? Because, I don't think it is. I think in the end, most people are even more afraid of free time than any potential physical dangers imposed by not having any. Free time means time to think; time to ponder; time to question and comprehend and perhaps reconsider. For those accustomed to living life on the run, myself included, this is a very bad thing. I'd much rather occupy my time with the present, with the past a foregone conclusion, and the future an irrelevant afterthought, than have time to consider either more carefully.

The only reason I even bring this up is because for the first time in four years since I entered Berkeley, I truly had a chance to have a relaxing semester, even within the self-imposed burden of two majors and several jobs. But, for whatever reason, I couldn't bear the thought of that, and thus, latched onto an even more challenging schedule. Commitments and projects and classes were added left and right until I could barely shoulder the burden. And that's where I find myself now, right back on the threshold of collapse and the brink of insanity—a place I know well and don't really want to leave. The question then becomes, how long can this last and will I be forced to leave against my will. I don't know the answer to that; I guess I'll have to think about it when I have some free time.