Not that anyone cares, but I’ll tell you what my problem with sport is. Even in most team sports, there’s still technically only one possible winner. This bothers me. I’m a snowflake socialist and I like the idea of everyone getting a happy ending. That being said, I also laughed like a drain when Germany slaughtered Brazil in the last Fifa World Cup. That shit was brutal.
Think about it though –
why do we insist on having one winner for every 100 losers? This is a model for misery for 99% of the population. Our obsession with ranking everything in a top 10; the victory of the solo career; demeaning bronze medallists; paying a CEO more than everybody else put together; being the best of the best. Not only is this impractical for a nearly 8 billion world population, it’s also self-inflicted, individualistic living that spoils our sense of achievement.
We allow our aspirations to be defined by capitalism, and ultimately that leads to a majority of people feeling unsatisfied with their lives. I was as guilty as any of wanting to be the absolute best at whatever I did, but I’ve found squashing that inner perfectionist is the only way to be happy.
A lot of us know in our minds what it is that we want to do with our lives, and usually it involves becoming ‘successful’ in a professional field (I’m well aware that some people are sensible enough to aspire to a loving family, good on you). I don’t think this is unhealthy, but I don’t understand why success in a field is defined as having power as opposed to enjoying existence within something.
I’ve had to face the fact that the times I’m the happiest are when I’m either reading a particularly hilarious BuzzFeed article, listening to a new favourite song or catching up with a friend. My happiest moment this week came from a snapchat filter that allowed me to impose my flatmate’s faces onto my own head – I laughed for about an hour straight. These are simple, easy pleasures which can define our lives if we let them. Instead we choose to chase dreams of money, power and recognition by strangers, despite the people
with those things telling us all it doesn’t make them happy.
I think of my brother, who makes himself miserable by mourning his perceived lack of achievement. He is a kind, intelligent and witty human being and I wish that he knew that’s all that matters. We are all so tiny and insignificant, who cares who is on top of the pile for a blip of time?
I think I’ve preached enough now. I’m going to try and live my life as less goal-oriented and more ‘what adventures can I have?’ Thank you for listening to the faux-wisdom of my quarter-life crisis.