Not quite halfway through and this has been, by far, without a doubt, the best vacation I’ve ever had. Today we played with tiger cubs, wolf pups, monkeys, and hand fed an elephant. And that was just the morning. We also went to the aquarium in the evening. It was an absolutely fucking amazing day.
The experience, as a whole, fosters a sense of urgency for fulfillment in life. Seeing Adora’s tweet “best fucking day of my life,” hearing Suzi thank me repeatedly, hearing Kristen repeatedly say “this is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” and seeing Mark, Linda, and Dave genuinely grateful for getting them to the beach this year brought me happiness on a foundational level that, I assume, can only be attained by bringing others happiness. Seeing the animal trainers at work, appreciating that their entire existence is devoted to their passion, also stirred in me a desire for the same. I even had an inclination to look into their apprenticeship program,
I often find myself surviving each day at work, akin to the way I would survive each day in grad school. It is definitely a matter of degree. I am not miserable. I am content. But I do not wake up each day with a tiger or wolf in my bed and zero doubts about my purpose.
I will continue to feel lost until I am certain of my purpose. I felt it even on my first night walk along the beach. I thought I’d be completely absorbed in the experience, but this was not quite the case. It was surreal in a sense, as it was the first time I did not feel like I was along for the ride. I was walking along the beach and I made it happen. However, there was something else, a subtle sense of emptiness, that lingered just beneath the surface. I think I believed that I love the ocean so much that simply being there would fulfill me in and of itself. That if I found the job that would land me at the ocean, I would be content. And I must admit that listening to the waves break from the balcony as I write this is profoundly pleasurable. And I do not intend to abandon my dream of traveling and ultimately living on the coast. But living on the coast is not my purpose. I will devote a great deal of my remaining time here toward contemplating this.
It is also worth noting that dopamine fixation is still something I should look into. Up until a few hours ago, I felt as if full access to my faculties was limited. That there was a persistent fog that needed to be penetrated to truly engage, to fully be present. I still feel this way, and I am somewhat sleep deprived, but I definitely feel more centered after smoking a few cigarettes. It’s as if I am at my best about a week after a dance with my deamon and then I begin a slow but steady decline. My ambition, confidence, and motivation peak and descend. I am weary of this cycle and I do not want to persist as such any longer. Perhaps finding my purpose is the solution. Perhaps my purpose, for the last two decades or better, has been to dig myself out of each rock bottom just a little better each time. Perhaps if I finally discover, define, and execute what I am profoundly passionate about, I will finally break the self-perpetuating cycle of the self-sabotaging, self-limiting, remorseful phoenix.
