Maybe we think we’re realists when we’re just pointillists.

“Our idea of happiness may itself be the main obstacle keeping us from happiness”

Thich Nhat Hanh

 

The Lottery & The Last Show.

There is more than $2 billion in potential winnings combined for Powerball and Mega Millions to date, and everyone is going nuts about it. We seem to think that winning is more special when the stakes against us are higher. Kind of like how in some religions, we think the more we struggle in this life- the more likely we are to get even better in the next life or more likely to be in the best afterlife. We have this strange obsession with struggling, and I don’t know if it’s because pain is a throughline in all of our lives, or if it’s because we need to prove we deserve to win. We should be living every day like we’ve won the lottery.

I don’t mean to say, let’s spend all our money on superfluous things and disregard all responsibility (because certainly hedonism is a necessary stage of post-winning). I’m also not saying to just think positive so you can manifest a winning life and all that bullshit. I’m saying we should live like winners, even if we don’t win a damn thing, because at least we’d feel like winners. We’d feel like we’d won something more than the responsibility to keep existing, and we’d do more because we were on top. I’ve been thinking recently about attitude and purpose, and what it means to live a life that leaves a positive impact on the world.

This investigation was triggered when I attended an intimate memorial service at Cal State LA this past Saturday, held in one of their music rooms, for a woman who had graduated with her MFA in Television, Film, and Theatre from the institution. I didn’t know her well, I had in fact only met her once. She directed a play my ex had performed in, and while attending the play, I met one of the loves of my life and dearest friends. But for her, I would not have met this person. I attended the memorial with him, and we discussed what life and death really mean. We talked about how when one person dies, that death is a unique loss for everyone in that person’s community. All of our relationships are so unique, and the loss of someone means the loss of certain connections. In particular, it is the loss of an understanding this person has of you, that no one else has. The tag line for the memorial was “EV’RY SHOW IS THE LAST SHOW” and it got me thinking what that really meant. It made me think about all the naps I take, all the time I spend agonizing over silly things, all the time and energy I expend waiting for the day to end so the next day can arrive.

If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do differently? This is one aspect of Carpe Diem, and one of the questions we can ask ourselves to determine our priorities. But what if instead acting like tomorrow was the last day ever, what if you were to act as if today the world was at your feet, that anything was possible, just because it was? Would you be happier? Kinder? More likely to try more things? Would you be ambitious and aspire to do everything your heart desired? Or would you settle? I feel like if I thought anything was possible, I wouldn’t be able to nap. I wouldn’t want to stop, because I would know that I was this much closer to achieving what I wanted. I wouldn’t wait for the fatal diagnosis or the $2 billion to do shit. I could just do it. Now why is that so hard?