Original version posted on a private blog I share with a friend on the 20th of February, 2023, written in that transient period spent in an airport during transit.
Once, generations that came before us left Ireland out of necessity. In the case of many, there was nothing here for them in terms of employment. In famine times, perhaps only starvation awaited them here. In the case of the more artistically-inclined, like my architect aunt and uncle, they needed to go to France to practice their profession. For doctors like my parents, emigrating was the only option if they wanted to further their training. For another relative, I suspect his sexuality had something to do with leaving for Australia. Now many of our peers uprooting again, for different reasons I think. Not because they have to, but because they feel an agitation – they need a change. Part of me is skeptical when I hear this – if you can’t be happy where you are, there is no guarantee that you can be happy elsewhere. There is a symbolism to emigrating, much like the turn of the New Year, that people hope will scourge old habits and cultivate new ones. It might – I am convinced that it’s the ‘mundane’ day-to-day things that contribute most to our contentment: the morning runs, the sleep quality, time with loved ones, the people you surround yourself with, your commute – but it takes continual inner work to be happy for most of us, and moving won’t exempt you from this inner work.
I experienced some wonderful quality time with people I love and even people I don’t consider close but whose company I enjoy during my weekend visiting Dublin. I probably won’t see any of them in person again for another 6-12 months. I thought about this detachedly as I was in the company of aforementioned loved ones. And I realised that I felt no sadness or regret about my dual homes and my divided life. I have a home and a community and a version of life in Ireland and I have a home and a community and another version of life in Boulder. I have chosen Boulder to be my anchor home place. And I feel just fine about that. I feel happy and supported and productive there. There are other parallel anchor lives I did not realise in Ireland, nor in Switzerland, nor in San Diego. I could have been happy in these lives too. But I have chosen this one. And the best decision is the one you made. You run with it and let those parallel lives go as if all of this was intentionally designed. From having sustained and nurtured loving relationships with people in Ireland, I have learned that we can do that by phone and intermittent visits. ‘Falling out of touch’ is not inevitable – it’s on you to stay close and you can do it. A category of relationship for which this can be more challenging are those with a stronger physical element, those people with which you share touch as a love language. Phone calls, as of the available technology at the time of writing, cannot fill that need.
There is another sadness that arises when you see people you love intermittently. When you see people often, their struggles can become invisible, old news. Their hurting loses its sting. This detachment, this numbing, is a survival mechanism. If I hurt every time my dear friends in Boulder hurt, I would swiftly emotionally disintegrate. In contrast, when you see someone you love for the first time in a while, their struggle feels raw. You have not been around to observe it slowly evolve. You have not adapted to detach from it. My sadness comes from being with people I love for the first time in a while, seeing that they are struggling with the same things they were struggling with a year earlier, and confronting my powerlessness to make them feel better.
I can empathise, I can validate, I can offer words of affirmation and hugs and company. But I cannot make anyone feel any particular way I want them to feel or believe anything I want them to believe, just like I can’t make anyone do anything. I can’t inject anyone with self-esteem, self-love, motivation to change. I can’t make anyone see themselves the wonderful way I see them. I can’t convince anyone that they can pursue this very achievable pipe-dream they wish they could do if they aren’t convinced of it themselves. I can’t warn anyone not to make mistakes I have made, nor urge them to try things that have added greatly to my life.
I can only listen, empathise, affirm, hug and work on my own happiness. This last part is important. I have significantly more power to influence my own happiness than I do to influence the happiness of others. I count as a person who deserves to be happy, and so I am worth my own efforts. Additionally, I have a much greater capacity to empathise and love other people if I am happy. It’s like putting an oxygen mask on yourself in a plane before you help other people. It’s hard enough to influence other people happiness when you are your best self, it’s much harder when you are not.
My conclusion is that it is your only obligation to work on your own happiness, and not to take on the full responsibility of making other people happy. Because you are greatly limited in your capacity to make other people feel and think differently. Only they can do this, and whatever efforts you make beyond empathising, affirming and keeping good company may even do more harm than good (in my case, I need to bite my tongue to avoid giving unsolicited advice). But you are empowered to gift yourself with such changes. You deserve to be happy. The people who love you want to see you happy. You can be a better friend when you are happy. All for one and one for all. It is an act for the greater good to do the inner work for yourself and let go of your attachment to change others.
Leave a Reply