HEAVY DECISIONS

 As a man or a woman, you should always take your time when it comes to big decisions. That is one thing I was never good at. But you see, I had no choice — I had to learn or perish.

I was the reckless type, making lifetime decisions in split seconds, and I have to tell you, I’m still paying for that nasty behavior even now.

My siblings are my greatest support system. Note that I haven’t mentioned my parents, though it doesn’t make much difference to me — after all, parents are the source, and children are the springs that get their water from the source. In a way, the water from the source and the springs taste alike.

The kind of friends a man hangs out with, the things he spends his time fantasizing about, where he lives, the clothes he wears, the films he watches, the books he reads, the music he listens to, the kind of woman that fascinates him, what he does for a living, what he does for a hobby, how he views the world, how he reacts to suffering, how he carries himself in shame, in abundance, in scarcity — all these make the man.

I have always known that, and that is why I never took life too seriously. We are just a moment away from ruin, from disintegrating into the very thing we came from. And I am not stupid enough to forget that life, as we know it, is useless in many ways.

The Conundrum of Career

My conundrum came in the form of a career. I am one of those people who believe that if I am to do something forever, then it has to be something that sets my soul ablaze — something that reflects in my eyes, connecting my innermost sensations to the outside world. A trade that cements my place in the universe, not just as a means of survival but as an extension of who I am.

A man’s trade follows him to the grave and beyond. If he was a physicist, a poet, a writer, or a painter, he will be remembered by his trade, no matter how he lived his life. If he was any good, his legacy will be woven into history like threads connecting seams in clothing.

I also believe that a man’s trade should be whatever he wants it to be — a street sweeper, a businessman, a garbage collector, a musician. It doesn’t matter, because they are all equally important in the grand connectedness of the universe. The significant part is not the status of the trade but the love for it. One must love their work first before striving to become the best at it.

The problem with capitalism is that it has put price tags on trades, forcing people to chase the highest bidder while neglecting their passions. What is the point of being the president of a multibillion-dollar corporation if you spend your nights swallowing pills to calm your nerves? A garbage collector can live a far more fulfilling life than a pilot, yet he is paid peanuts.

The Writer in Me

I have always loved to write — mostly about my own thoughts. I have used words to woo women, to convince people to buy my products, to make sense of the world. Maybe my love for reading finessed me into writing. After all, weren’t all writers readers first?

I know I am not a great writer because I don’t memorize words like a dictionary, but I do it to understand myself more, and that’s all I ever wanted.

What I do know I am good at is thinking clearly amidst chaos. I prefer to act rather than overthink for the sake of it. Ironically, this very behavior has led to the abrupt end of many romantic involvements.

When a person constantly complains about her boss misusing her, failing to recognize her hard work, and cries about it for hours on end — what is the best response? I recently learned that the correct response is to listen, validate her feelings, and avoid the elephant in the room — that she should either confront her boss or quit altogether.

Interesting.

People don’t tell you their problems because they want solutions. They tell you as a way to vent, waste time, or hear how tragic their own stories sound out loud.

That is not me.

If I tell someone my problems, it’s because I want a solution — fast. That is why I have had success in business. Business rewards clear thinkers. You don’t deal with problems at the surface; you dig to the roots, get your hands dirty, rip them out, and destroy them completely.

The Fire of Business

I remember the first time I opened a business — I couldn’t sleep for days. My mind was racing: How do I scale it? How do I outshine my competitors? How do I dominate my industry?

Every morning, I couldn’t wait to get to my place of business. My eyes were an inferno, and every time I looked in the mirror, I wanted to play with that fire. I enjoyed every bit of it — so much so that my recklessness led to hasty decisions that ultimately buried my business.

I opened another. And then another. Of course, money was a primary motivation, but not the only reason. I wanted freedom — to do what I wanted, when I wanted, with whomever I wanted. And for a while, I had it.

But freedom comes at a price.

When you run a business, you are the first to arrive and the last to leave. Your employees are just passersby, clapping for your baby when it takes its first steps — but soon after, they move on with their own lives.

Facing My Family

So when my parents and two siblings summoned me one evening before supper, I knew exactly what I was going to say.

They had spent a fortune on my education, and I couldn’t afford to make them regret it. But the problem was — they were convinced they knew what was best for me more than I did.

Call it youthful ignorance, but nobody knows what’s best for me better than me.

I understand that education is the great equalizer, the key to all doors in life. And I agree — I have learned a lot. I have read books that have let me walk a mile in a thousand different lives. I have lived in different centuries, civilizations, and tragedies — all because of education.

But let’s be honest.

Education was shoved down my throat because “they knew what was best” for me. But no more.

Now, I know what’s best for me.

And I am going to take my chance.

Even if I fail, I will die knowing I tried. Because regret is the heaviest burden of all.

That is why I only do things that make sense to me. Society’s opinions are not my concern. I can live wherever I want, eat whatever I want, do whatever I want — as long as I choose a trade that is both consuming like a tsunami and blissful like an ocean cruise.

It has to make me a better person.

The world will find its way — it always does.