The Power of the Mundane

Funny how one cares about these things, how desperately one wishes to make a good impression, how frightened one is of failure. It’s pure vanity of course. Or perhaps, to be kinder to oneself, professional pride. There are so many other more important things in my life to worry about, and yet what matters most to me at the moment is thinking of something clever to say at the last session tomorrow. Messenger’s the same – totally wrapped up in the conference, paying attention to every speaker, making sure everything is going smoothly, schmoozing his star speakers, keeping the TV people happy. Nobody would guess that he’s waiting for the result of a blood test that could mean the difference between life and death. I suppose it’s a blessing really, that we both have something to distract us. – David Lodge’s Thinks…

Life is defined by extreme moments, the up or down spikes that break the monotonous straight line. When I look back on my past, I always remember the spikes. Sometimes they are major events: my college acceptance, my first kiss, my sister’s wedding, my grandfather’s death. Sometimes they’re minor occurrences: a fabulous day with a good friend, a whispered secret, a broken trust. I don’t remember much about my daily life.

Yet while these major or minor events were going on, life still continues. In the last five years, I’ve had many personal struggles, but I put on a normal face and took the subway to work. I sat through meetings, fixed my code and talked to users. I might have even chuckled once or twice. Not only did I show up to work everyday, but I worried about my code, making sure it’s tested properly. I spent hours trying to solve a user’s production problem.

Tragedies happen. Even without considering the freak events like what happened over a month ago. People get old and die. People that you love let you down. People that you always thought you couldn’t live without, leave you. Most of us are emotional beings, we cannot move on in a few minutes. It takes time to develop a coping mechanism. Some recover quicker and some never really do. Regardless of your personal timetable, life continues on. In most cases, one has to report right back to work and meet deadlines. Or take midterms.

Ironically, I think it’s these small tasks that keep us alive, that keep us from falling into a deep depression. The fact that you have to go to work gives you a reason to get up and dress in the morning. Your midterms stop your mind from constantly replaying scenarios relating to your tragedy. The trivial, day-to-day activities ensure that you have at least split seconds where you’re not fully concentrating on the tragedy. I think that’s what starts the healing process. After the first week, you spend a single minute thinking of something else. But a month later, you spend a full day. A few months later, maybe you move up to a week. The misery slowly disintegrates. Sometimes it lingers for years but it’s not the debilitating emotion, it’s a whisper that’s barely audible.

I don’t mean that we should forget about our tragedies. I never do. Even if I really would like to. But life does go on and human beings have an amazing capacity for pain. And tragedies remind me how thankful I am for the mundane.

Previously? Greatness.