On Problems

You know what sucks?

Problems, those suck.

Even before you were born – nine months earlier – you could have already been a nascent problem. Perhaps, your parents weren’t excepting you. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time. Perhaps they were encumbered by their financial ability. Perhaps, they weren’t ready. Perhaps, it was for a different reason altogether. Perhaps…

I mean, it hurts right, to realize you could have been a burden to someone else even prior to developing in the womb? Well, it doesn’t get better because from the moment you leave the womb and deafen your parents and until the day of your last breath, you are a problem. Possibly, even thereafter. Hence the funeral.

But maybe problems are good.

That is, you exist, right? you, a one in four trillion fluke, exist. That, itself, is a miracle and should be celebrated as such. It should be celebrated because in an infinitely problematic world hosting an infinite number of problems, you just so happen to exist. Those are the odds and that is, with the given presuppositions, irrefutable. When I was four, I was extremely attached to my grandpa. At the time, there was an inexplicable, phenomenal bond I shared with him that I’ve yet to and don’t plan to share with another individual. Looking back, it was probably because he coddled me; he was a yes-man, so whenever we passed by a grocery store and I asked, he would procure candy for me. He was an over-protective guardian, so whenever I had conflicts with my siblings and or cousins, he would take my side. He was, without a doubt, the ideal grandparent anyone could wish for at that age. He sheltered me from the cruel but very real outside world, and it was amazing. That is, until we had to separate for a period of time because of pre-school.

On the first day he tried to drop me off, he couldn’t leave. He had to stand by the door and watch over me. I, despite being able to play with the toys and other children, would consistently glance over to ensure his presence. Whenever he futilely attempted to escape my vision, I would freeze and cry. I bawled my eyes dry that day. That said, I eventually learned to function without his companionship albeit it may have taken copious amounts of time. It was both a process and a compromise: I made him promise to stay a little longer before leaving and to arrive a little earlier to pick me up, and in turn, I wouldn’t make a scene. In time, I warmed up to the other kids and made friends even.

Reflecting on this experience and me being embarrassed aside, what stood out for me was the introduction of a problem (i.e. me) via an over-cautious grandparent (i.e. him). In a way, he solved all my problems until I, myself, became the problem. By sheltering me, by coddling me, by leaving me to be invulnerable, he made me vulnerable. It’s Watt’s backwards law – the more you try to hold onto something, the more it slips through the crevices of your hand; the more you try to control a situation, the more it controls you; the more you try to avoid musing over a problem, the more you end up musing over it.

Now, my grandpa isn’t to blame because how can I blame someone with pure and loving intentions? Furthermore, I wouldn’t alter the past, as with its multitudes of problems, it has also helped to mould my becoming. I like to believe that everyone has a set of problems starting at the physiological level and culminating at self-actualization. Maslow refers to these as needs but I refer to them as problems. I like to believe that life has myriad problems; whenever a problem is resolved, another takes its place. When you’re in pre-school, the problems are simpler – math puzzles, shapes matching, or in my case, separation anxiety. When you’re in school, the problems are replaced with making friends, fostering relationships, keeping up with your education and so forth. On this basis, I have an inkling that problems are on-going but with this inkling, I somehow feel more free. It’s Watt’s backwards law again.

Under the premise that problems are on-going and perpetual, the one thing I ask of you is to experience things a little. Drink a gallon of water a day even if you have to pee every hour. Wake up at four am to hike for fourteen hours even if you know your legs are going to be sore the next day. Run an arduous marathon even if you can’t remember the last time running has crossed your mind. Read ten books in one sitting even if you haven’t picked up a book in ages. Fall asleep for a twenty-four hour duration even if you can’t remember the last time you’ve slept well. Call your grandparents and tell them you love them even if you haven’t connected in a while. I don’t know – just live a little because problems will continue to exist, and at times, feel insurmountable even.

So don’t try to live a life without a problems as that’s impossible. Rather, try to live a life with problems you find worth solving and have a little fun along the way, because thats’s what is meaningful. That’s what is going to feel good. And that’s what you’re going to remember.