Plugging the Invisible Gap
Have you ever gotten hunger pangs on the back of a particular craving? When you feel the need to satisfy the munchies monsters inside you — but you can't quite nail what you're yearning for? You know you want something yet you don't particularly know what. And you'll only find out what it is when you see it.
Utterly frustrating, isn't it?
I get that feeling at times — some more frequent than others. However, I'm afraid I'm no longer referring to food. Rather, something more profound and abstract. I feel the need to fill a void in me but I don't quite understand why the vacuity is there in the first place. I've come to terms with the fact that achieving happiness is a far-fetched concept — possible, but not readily accessible. So instead, I've set my target on satisfaction and contentment, which I'd like to believe I've been enjoying for the past few years. I have gone through hell and back over matters that I'd rather forget — and because of this, I have welcomed the state of stability entering my life and thought of it as a reward for surviving. I had no idea how long it was here to stay, but I thank the heavens that it decided to come visit indefinitely.
I have nothing to complain about in my life. Sure, parts of it have much left to be desired but it's half-decent and painfully average. I can think up of at least a thousand reason from the top of my head as to why I should be grateful to be in my situation. However, I feel this void creeping up from inside of me — from the pits of my stomach straight to my restless psyche and hankering vision. And I also feel the need to fill it before it swallows me whole.
It absolutely destroys me not knowing how to address the issue. I don't even know where to begin looking.
In consulting, there's this term called “helicoptering.” It essentially means to zoom up to take a look at the bigger picture. When I scrutinize particular sectors of my life, everything seems to be in order or at least holding together for now. There's the job — check, there's the family — check, there's the financial situation — half a check (yet still passable), there's the social capacity — check… and the rest, check, check, check and more checks. Everything is seemingly in order. However, it is when I take a step back and see how everything fits in together that I find myself frowning and pursing my lips.
It doesn't quite flow. It doesn't quite fit together… like there's a missing piece or bolt somewhere.
Either the equation for contentment has changed and upped its ante or my delusions about being satisfied has finally caught up to me. Have I just been denying all this time that I was actually okay? Or was I turning a blind eye over in order to block it off my system and pray to God that I would eventually forget about it?
Why, all of a sudden, did a cloud pass over me and changed everything — without necessarily changing anything? How is that even possible? One day, I wake up and realized “Oh, there's something missing. What the fck is it?”
What the fck is it?!?!
If only it's as easy as going to 7-11 at 4 o'clock in the morning and roaming through the little aisles and finding exactly what I needed to satisfy my cravings… then life wouldn't be half bad now, would it?