My Memento Mori Manifesto
Psyching myself up to pursue my passions for a living (with the help of others)
I had a random and confronting thought last week that strangely put me at ease: I would be satisfied with my life if I died today.
Now, don’t freak out. This isn’t uncharted territory for my curious mind. It wanders where it wants and brings back some useful souvenirs from the journey on a regular basis. What struck me about this particular instance was that I’ve never made peace with that thought before. As you may have gathered from my previous posts, I often worry about wasting time and fear meeting my maker before I’ve shared my best work. I’m actively challenging this mindset lately – with the help of Stoicism and unorthodox philosophers like Mark Manson and Tim Ferriss – and I’m happy to discover that I’ve settled for the life I lead.
So, let me unpack that thought for you. Should I cease to exist unexpectedly, I would be okay with it – unless I’m murdered, then I’m haunting your arse. But seriously, the people I love know that I love them. My most honest thoughts are out there in the world. They would know that I had a voice of my own and shared it with a clear conscience. I would be survived by a personal legacy of writing, poetry, music, podcasts, photography, shitty short films, and terrible drawings (please don’t publish those). Most importantly, I would live on in the memories that we’ve created. I don’t know what the meaning of life is because it’s different for everybody, but mine is to be content.
This led me to have another epiphany: I’ve been confusing disinterest with dissatisfaction. Google the word “dissatisfaction” and the first suggested synonym is “discontent”. I love writing, but I no longer enjoy copy typing. I love making music, but I no longer feel the need to rehearse or perform. I love talking about films, but I no longer want to dedicate hours to making notes for a handful of casual listeners. These hobbies are my passions, but doing them in the wrong context has drained the joy from them. I also work full-time in retail, for the most suitable company to me in that industry, yet I find it unfulfilling.
If my own definition of a good life is to be content, why have I allowed myself to settle for the exact opposite?
I’m not giving up on these creative projects because there’s no audience. I’ll probably continue to do these things in some way, shape, or form for the rest of my life. It’s about doing what I want, when I want, where I want every day. The concept of doing the same thing for at least eight hours a day until you fall apart or earn enough to stop is absurd to me. So, how do I break the mould and build a career in my own way? Well, when I struggle to find happiness and need to “fill my cup”, a term introduced to me by a counsellor during the pandemic, I like to make a list of things that I want to do more and things that I want to do less. This helps me recognise where adjustments need to be made to restore the balance.
I usually find that the best way to put this into practice is to do something that I love every day and write about it. Right now, a few things that I want to do more are read, write, and get some sun. Things that I want to do less are eat junk food, watch TV, and scroll social media. I can implement these changes by removing temptations to encourage productivity, but there’s one big problem. I often come home from work too tired and uninspired to read a book, write a few hundred words, or go outside. So, I instead fall back to the same default of watching a movie, surfing the net, and eating because I’m bored. I’m stuck in a negative feedback loop and the only way to break the cycle is to devote more time to what I love.
The big solution, in this case, is likely to be one of two options. Either change my current work contract to allow for more time to create with a pay cut, or try to get a more fulfilling job in an industry closer to my passions at the risk of losing the love for it. I could offset the cons of the former by finding a way to monetise a hobby, but the latter is a gamble with a lot of variables. Notice how, all of a sudden, the question of what I want to do with my life has become a matter of money? But here’s the thing: if I change careers and it goes horribly wrong, I can always make more money. However, I can’t get lost time back – and that’s more valuable to me.
Of course, pursuing a career in the creative industries raises some ethical questions. What do I contribute to the economy? How am I supporting the community? Who will determine when I am successful? I’m not built for manual labour, but I’m good with people, so it makes sense to follow the clear path. It also gives way to personal doubts, not to mention the concerns of friends and family. What if I don’t make it? How long will it take? Who can I ask for help? This can lead to harmful thoughts that stifle creativity before it even gets a chance to run free. You know, old chestnuts like “I’ll never be as good as them”, “I don’t know what I’m doing”, or “I’m not ready”. Newsflash: you’ll never think you’re ready!
We creatives are often our own worst enemies. While there is merit in being your harshest critic, to a degree, we should trust that the honesty of individual expression will resonate with others. Remember that classic adage, the personal is the universal. We are affected by sad songs, profound scenes, and moving words because we can apply them to our own lives. Creations are made to be shared after all, whether for collaboration or appreciation. It doesn’t have to be the best. It just has to be the best that you can do. I’ve come to accept that while there are plenty of others who think and feel like me, there will never be another exactly the same, and that is enough to carry on.
So, if I can reach somebody through what I create and connect with them on an emotional level to help them in some way, is that not worthy of my time and theirs? What most non-creatives struggle to understand is that we willingly suffer for our art. Whether constantly running at a loss, screaming into the void, or burning ourselves out, we make the sacrifices necessary because it’s worth it to us. Besides, wouldn’t you pay for quality “content”? When I’m meeting somebody for the first time and they ask what I do, instead of simply stating my occupation, I usually tell them that I write, make music, and review films. Sure, working a 9-5 may take up most of my time, but I hardly consider it my entire personality.
Of course, not everybody has “what it takes” to make it professionally as a creative. That’s because you have to be a fanatic to succeed in an unforgiving industry. You must think about it all the time and spend your days doing it whenever and wherever you can, otherwise it’s just a hobby. For me, this is writing, which is why I want – nay, need – to give it the attention that it deserves. This is also why contemplating your own mortality can be useful. The Latin phrase memento mori translates to “remember you must die”, and reiterates the importance of living with intention. If you could do anything that you wanted, irrespective of time, location, or money, what would you do? Any day could be your last, so act accordingly!
It’s all well and good to just want to say “fuck it” and trust your gut when making these kinds of decisions, but you’ve got to be prepared for all potential outcomes. Before you throw caution to the wind and quit your job to go chase your dreams, create a reasonable goal with actionable steps and hold yourself accountable along the way. I know this, which is why I’ve been plotting like a madman these past few days. For context, I’ve been at the same job for eight years, albeit in various roles, and it’s only my second ever. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t want to work – that would be illogical. I just want to enjoy what I spend a third of my life doing. Is that so much to ask?
I startled some people last week when I asked my Facebook friends if they have ever regretted quitting a job. The overwhelming response was all the same: no. One even commented that they had only ever regretted not leaving sooner. It was followed by a slew of concerned messages, so thank you for reaching out and offering your insight! It’s humbling to know that I’ve got a strong support network behind me should I do the unthinkable and follow my heart. I wanted to gauge the risk vs. reward of a career change from people more experienced than me and general consensus is that it’s worth it. After all, this isn’t the first time that I’ve found myself in this position, which is a good sign that it should be my last.
Might I remind you (and myself) that I’m in my late twenties and currently living at home. The timing is never perfect, but if there were ever a good time to try something new, now would be it… right? I haven’t asked anybody for their advice on the matter since I’ve been seriously considering it, I’ve just told them my plans as a way of thinking out loud. I still haven’t made my final decision, but I endeavour to be making money from my craft by the end of the year. Whether that involves working part-time in retail and launching an online business on the side, or getting a new job in a creative industry, I can’t say. But whichever way I choose to go, I know that it will be right.
What passion in your own life are you denying a chance to flourish?