Student
Hassan Joudi asks why the human mind is frequently not happy with what it has, and instead occupies itself with wanting something else.
For the male readers, if you were anything like me when you were 14 or 15 years old, you would have spent much time in front of the mirror, eagerly inspecting your chin for some signs of facial hair. Conversely if you’re anything like me now, aged 19, you’d be moaning about how fast you’re beard grows and complaining at how often you have to shave. Instead of envying the other boys in your Year 10 class who already had enough of a beard to groom to a style of their choosing, you envy the guy in your tutorial class at university who doesn’t seem to need a shave for months while you must tediously whip out the shaver weekly, if not more often.
Not happy with her Christmas presents yet again
This aspect of growing up is I believe representative of the overall gulf between our thoughts and aspirations in childhood, and those in adulthood. It is not uncommon for young children or teenagers to adopt the “I can’t wait to grow up” attitude. Being older is perceived to bring more freedom: more power on how to spend your money or more choice on what to study or work. Conversely it is not uncommon for adults at times to think, “I wish I was still a kid.” Being a child is perceived to bring less responsibility: your parents guarantee you have enough money and the life of simply going to school and playing with friends seems so trouble-free and easy.
This scenario extends further to other fields of life, and this common desire of always wanting something else to fulfil our happiness is characteristic of the human condition. At university students who live at home with their parents may sometimes feel they’re “missing out” on a lot of fun and wish they’d chosen to live in halls. The truth is many students living in halls will sometimes feel lonely or loathe having to shop, cook and iron for themselves and wish they’d chosen to live at home. The same can be said for people eagerly looking forward to a holiday abroad, but then feeling homesick while they are there.
In the workplace people who have a job they aren’t enjoying sometimes feel they just want to quit so they don’t have to drag themselves out of bed every morning, and can spend their time watching TV all day. Of course the fact is most unemployed people are desperately looking for a job and dream of getting back into work. In the midst of their boredom some office workers will think about leaving the office and getting back home during the day, but then at home their thoughts are filled with how much work they have to do tomorrow.
As human beings we have a tendency to subconsciously focus on what we don’t have, be this what we have lost: our childhood, or what we have yet to experience: growing up. We forget what we already have at the moment, after all the Arabic word for human being, insaan, is derived from the word meaning forget, nasa.
As a personal example, I was in the midst of my Easter holidays at the time of writing this article, trying to balance my need to revise for upcoming university exams with my desire to relax and enjoy the free time. I found that during the day, while the rest of my family were out of the house and I was left alone with my books and lecture notes, I felt bored and thus “couldn’t wait” for them to return in the evening so I could chat to them and enjoy dinner together. However once the evening came round, I found myself irritated at their presence because they distracted me from revising and led me to consider studying in the library instead. And all this in the same day!
This mechanism for wanting something else can work in other ways as well. During the month of Ramadhan when family friends and guests are invited for iftar (meal to break the fast), a grandiose series of dishes is usually prepared. Iraqi tradition is usually to first pass round the dates, then bring on the main meal (a rice and stew variant no doubt). Following this the chai (tea) and baqlawa (sweets) will be indulged in, then the fresh fruit will be brought forth from the kitchen, and perhaps some families will even whip out some more savouries and ice cream after this. With their stomachs full and having enjoyed each other’s company, everyone looks forward to getting back home and falling into a long deep sleep.
Apart from causing you to salivate, the point I’m trying to make is that at every stage of this grandiose iftar, the eater enjoys the new taste in their mouth for a while. But quickly this ‘newness’ disappears, less pleasure is derived from eating the stage, and they quickly gobble down the rest of the dish as they look forward to the next stage. Much like the toddler constantly asking the mother for a certain toy, our moment of happiness only lasts for a few seconds before we start the cycle of wanting something else again!
That phrase “I can’t wait…” is ubiquitous in all the scenarios mentioned. “I can’t wait to go on holiday… I can’t wait until term ends… I can’t wait for the baqlawa.” In the countless self-help books out there, you can always be sure that ever-present on the list of “top ten ways to improve your life” will be to “live in the moment.” This philosophy underlies much of today’s relaxation therapies like meditation, qiqong and yoga as well as major world religions like Hinduism, Buddhism and Islam.
While our mind often tells us we will only be content when we have something else, when we are thinking or doing something else, our happiness and comfort is often easily achieved with what we already have or are already doing. Knowing this is one thing, but controlling our thoughts so the words “I can’t wait…” are not constantly circling our heads is another more difficult task. So I urge you, whether you are travelling abroad, working or staying at home this summer, don’t wish you were doing something else. Live in the moment.
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