Life over Death

If I may quote Ernest, “you need life to enjoy things, not things to enjoy life.” That statement neatly sums up my philosophy of life in one simple clear witty statement. It gives me a good vibe from just being alive.

Now I set out fully intending to proceed with my usual regular declamations of the evils in the world today. But that releases a lot of negative energy, which often leaves me feeling drained and down myself. While it’s true, at least from my perspective, occasionally it becomes therapeutic to turn my glance to the more positive aspects of life, to consider the good things and simple pleasures which give me hope to fight the good fight, because all is not lost; to count my blessings and revel in losing count and smile again. It keeps hardships in their correct perspective. Shreds of beauty lie scattered amidst gloomy wastes. They give me reason to press on when I would otherwise have given up, when all things seem to have failed on me.

Once, after an exceptionally stressful turn of events in my personal and academic life, details withheld, the resulting all-pervasive depression refused to be shaken away by all my usual pick-me-ups. It lasted days. Not even the “Churchill Live” stand-up act was doing it for me – rarely does anyway. I could even feel myself infecting people I met with malevolent breeds of existential unease. Someone truly caring even ventured to suggest I visit the Student Counseling Centre (I thought that was uncalled for, an extreme case, “too manual”). But everywhere I turned for distraction, I just happened to find more reasons to give up on everyone and everything. A vortex of depression was swallowing me whole into its vacuous centre and everything I could find to hold onto was headed into it as well...

Suddenly, I can’t fully explain how good it was, but I got a very good feeling straight out of nowhere - simply because I remembered doing ONE tiny thing right. I wasn’t high. The memory was a random moment in the middle of a soccer match a long time previous. I had received a pass, dribbled past someone and passed the ball on to someone else. Simple and routine. Yet somehow, the mere memory of that fluid moment washed away all the dark gloom that had settled on my whole being. I could smile again - just because I once dribbled past some guy.

The mere fact that I was still alive and could still enjoy such insignificant moments was weirdly beautiful encouragement. Real tears of joy came to my eyes as the depression collapsed into itself and vanished instantly. It was a load off my shoulders a cold drink and a breath of fresh air all at the same time. Some might say I wasn’t depressed enough if such a stupid memory is all it took to set me straight, but that’s not the point.

While I have life, I thank God for it and enjoy its moments. The enemy cannot take EVERYTHING away after all. Things happen, life’s like that. Better that than death by far.