When I was a kid my only goal was to leave home and live somewhere far away.
Not that I hated my family. But we were subjected to a lot of hard labour and the holidays, which are supposed to be the best time for most kids, were the worst for us. December was the worst of all. An entire month of 4am wake-ups and back-breaking child labour.
After high school my wish was granted. I moved to Cape Town and, as I’d always wanted, lived in a city where I could do whatever I wanted without my parents breathing down my neck.
My first month was brutal. The exact opposite of what I expected. I was broke, lonely and struggling to adapt. I even missed the back-breaking child labour I’d been running away from.
It might’ve been the difficulty of adapting to somewhere new. But even now, over a decade later – as imperfect as it is – I’d still choose my village over any city.
I say all this because I’ve noticed that most things we chase in life end up disappointing us. And it’s not because they’re bad, but because we’ve overestimated what they’ll do to us emotionally.
I remember wanting a job and believing that the salary I’d earn would cure everything.
I got the job. The money came. I thought I’d be moon-walking forever – by month three I was just… meh. So is that it?
It’s the same with dating someone you’ve wanted for a long time. You get them… and then slowly, without noticing, you forget to water the very garden you fought so hard to grow.
For a while I thought I was just ungrateful. But I’ve heard enough people describe the same experience to know it’s not just me.
Does this mean most things in life are overrated?
Maybe. But I think the more honest answer is that we’re chasing the wrong thing entirely. We’re not really after the thing. We’re after an emotion we think the thing will give us.
I took a walk recently and found myself so present that I actually heard birds singing.
I stopped and thought… when last did I hear that? They’re always there. They obviously sing. But I’m usually so caught up in my own head that I can’t pay attention to the small things.
That walk gave me something I’d been trying to manufacture through goals and milestones for years.
Here’s what I’ve come to think about satisfaction: it’s not something you chase, but rather something you can access right now.
For example… The pleasure of choosing not to buy a jacket you like, when you easily could, is emotionally the same as choosing not to buy a Ferrari when you have the money.
Of course, the scale is completely different, but the feeling in your body isn’t.
Your body doesn’t know whether the satisfaction is micro or macro. The emotion is the same.
That satisfying feeling from wearing new white socks for the first time is the same whether yours cost R20 or $2 000 from Gucci. Your brain has no idea what you paid. New socks. That’s it.
Okay, I don’t know why I used new white socks as an example. But I do love new white socks.
Which means the emotion you think you’ll feel when you finally reach your goal… you can probably feel a version of it today. In small things like a walk. Or in birds you forgot were there.
I’m not arguing against having goals. Chase them.
But don’t defer the emotion you’re chasing until you get there. You have enough right now to feel glimpses of it. And those glimpses – if you pay attention to them – are often more sustaining than the thing you were running toward.
The birds were always singing.
You just had to stop.
© Phumzile