I'm a hedonistic kind of girl. A self-indulgent, pleasure-seeker, don't threaten me with a good time-er. And although this can be a crazy way to live, I've found reward in it.
My life, for too long, had been ruled by depression. And I (in an act of defiance that was, in my imagination, soundtracked by I Want to Break Free by Queen) decided that I no longer wanted to live under its repressive reign. And with patience, therapy and Bupropion, I got my life back. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't simple, nor am I "cured." Sadness is still -- and probably always will be -- the easier choice. But I fight every day, and life is exceptionally better for it.
Now, instead of wallowing, I look for fun. I want a marvelous and decadent life, and I'm always on the hunt for adventure. I spend my time with people who are wonderfully funny and compassionate, people that I learn and grow from simply by being in their presence. I try new things. I laugh, loudly and often. And yet, life isn't all golden. My aptness to be a pleasure-seeker does come with some snags.
I have a tendency to jump from project to project, possessed by a new thought or idea. I refuse to work out (in the traditional sense) because that whole "running on a treadmill" thing bores me tremendously. I can't say no to dessert, because Samoa cookie doughnuts exist and what kind of monster would deny themselves such a stroke of baking genius? So, here's the skinny: I rarely finish any of the stories I begin to write, my exercising is limited to the occasional yoga class and Pokémon Go walks, and well...I eat a lot of dessert.
And while that isn't necessarily a bad way to live, like Ariel in the Little Mermaid, "I want moreeeeee". But instead of desiring people legs, I'd like to finish a novel, someday. And the only way to do that is to acquire balance, and to accept (the occasional) displeasure.
After spending so long in the fog of depression, the idea of intentionally doing something that would make me miserable is kind of insane. But the thing is, sometimes we have to work jobs we don't like and do that thing we've been putting off, in order to assure our happiness in the long run, not just in one, fleeting moment.
This means sticking to a singular project, even when tantalized by something more glittery and intriguing. It means saying no, exhibiting self-control and putting in good, hard work for a big, wonderful result.
Once you find the balance between pleasure-seeking and commitment, the world will become your oyster.
Maybe you're like me and the idea of going to a spin class where some impossibly fit trainer is screaming at you to "try harder" is a waking nightmare. That doesn't mean all exercise is a dud. Instead, try hiking. Take a dance class or aerial yoga. Make it fun, and then commit. This philosophy can be applied to nearly anything.
As much as I adore writing, it can be tedious, particularly when I'm forced (by myself or via deadline) to do it. They say that if you chose a job you love, you will never work a day in your life, but I don't think that's totally true. We are only human; we get burned out. And even if your work is your greatest passion, there will still be days (maybe even weeks) when your proverbial well of inspiration has run dry. And that's OK. This disinterest, lack of motivation or, for me, writer's block will not last forever. But we must pursue even when it does because, frankly, it's the only way to get things done.
Finding the harmony between hedonism and stoicism is something I try to achieve every day -- something I think we should all work towards. Because a life lived in rhythm is a marvelous one. So, have tons of fun, but don't forget to put in hard work. Know yourself. Commit. And eat the Samoa cookie doughnut.
