I am sitting here in Radnor Cafe, close to the Thames, overlooking the playground and sipping my tea whilst picking out the raisins of my scone (seriously, the British and their raisin obsession...). Life is good, right? Well, it should be considering I have some time off, nice breakfast and a cup of tea; however, all I seem to be able to do is worrying about the future.
What is going to happen when I return to Austria? What if I don't find a job? What should I do with my life? What is wrong with me for pondering about the future all the time? etc, etc, etc.... I am a natural worrier (not to be confused with warrior) and I am apparently ruining my last month in the UK with worrying about my life in Austria which hasn't even started yet. Sometimes I wonder whether not knowing the future wouldn't be beyond blissful. Not knowing what is looming there, not pondering about love, career and problems. However, we don't even really know the future - which is somewhat worse. If I knew exactly what would happen, I could either dread it or look forward to it, but because we do not know exactly what is going to happen but do have an understanding of the future, all we are left to do is think about what might happen, which is the worst because it leaves so much space for hypotheses. All I am doing is mulling over things that might happen at some point, but most likely never will, and to go through various scenarios which will never happen because the thing that WILL happen, hasn't happened in my mind yet and most likely never will happen in my mind because it is the implausible in my mind which becomes the plausible in reality because reality normally works out in way we least expect, which makes preparing for the future redundant because what we assume will happen, will never happen and what does happen, has never occurred to us beforehand. Does that make sense? Is it too philosophical? Am I wrapping my head around unwrappable things? Either way, what I should do is stop obsessing about the future, right? To live in the present, but it is hard damn difficult and I am convinced in this very moment that the line between a gift and a curse is a very thin. Very thin, indeed. And by the way, it is (for once) not a typo in the heading, it is a blend of knowing and owning.
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AuthorIn September 2015 I started a new chapter of my life by moving (temporarily or permanently, not yet decided) to England where I work and socialise now. Archives
December 2017
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