Rethinking Our Why For Doing

Is it always worth it?

There was a scream, and then another, and then a third. And soon nearly everyone was screaming. For a second, it seems the screaming was coming from everywhere. But at a closer look, it wasn't. The screams were coming from people at the back. Right, where I was safely seated — at least hoped I was. Why were they screaming I wondered?

It was hard to make the faces or find the cause of the scream. But then, I noticed, it seemed the water was entering into the raft. Aha…

This is one of those moments you pray that no matter what, murphy’s law does not find you. It will not be good.

It is 1 am at night, in the middle of the infamous no man’s land — the Mediterranean. The only lights we had, were from the millions of stars, millions of miles away, lending the best they could, their sparks.

It is difficult to explain the fear, or better put, the depth of fear one experiences in this journey. The funny thing is, in the Sahara desert, you think you've seen it all. But only to find out how wrong you were. You begin to feel like Job, whose life was been wagered on by God and the devil. It is one shit storm after the other. Just when you think nothing worse could happen, boom — a clean uppercut punch in your teeth.

How are we taking in water? It’s been smooth, save for the waves. Soon my pant was taking in saltwater where I was seated. Now, I am officially in panic mode. I scoured around with my eyes to see if anyone had any form of explanation.

Are we really taking in water?

“I think it's the water that got in at the front of the raft before we sailed, that's finding their way to the back as the boat is moving.” Someone finally screamed.

I cooled down. That makes sense.

I am seated in a cafe, a few blocks away from my house, writing as I usually do. It was in this same spot I wrote “5 Lessons From Diaspora — What I Have Learned Living Abroad” when this memory streamed down my consciousness. But why?

Cicio, my friend who is the bartender here, working alongside his father isn't in. So I kept more to myself than usual, simply focusing on my writing. Some dude walked past and gave an impudent look. I shrugged it off, as I am already accustomed to all forms of racism.

Then it made me think, only in a place where you ain't welcome you are looked at that way. But that wasn't what made my mind ponder over the act and the memory that gushed out. It was the feeling that came from knowing I risked it all that night, for a life as this? To get to a place where you're not only sidelined by demeaning gaze, but also by a social-economic structure that was put in place to snuff out every opportunity from you.

When we embark on a journey, how do we know this path we have chosen will produce the desired objective? Or that we would arrive at the desired destination? Faith and hope are a risky enterprise, indeed.

Even though that night as we ride the raft on the Mediterranean, in silent horror, there was a faint hope that, if only we make it, it will all be worth it. The bloody thirsts and hellish days spent in the desert. Sleeping on open sand covered by just a thin wrapper, and almost frozen to death — maybe in the end it would all be worth it. Well was it?

It's taken my five years to unravel something very important; the pursuit of happiness is an illusion — the chase of the good life is a wild goose chase.

There is nothing out there to be found or discovered — it is all within. Everything worthwhile that you'll ever discover in life is all within you. I guess the journey was for me to discover it after all.

“The Alchemist…” Maybe I should have read that book before I left home. As I write this, I feel I am a living example of the story in the book.

I have sailed the Mediterranean only to discover that what I seek is within. It’s been inside of me all this while. Life wasn’t hiding it from me. I just was blind.

Experience is the knife that peels off our blindness one layer at a time.

Maybe I could argue that the journey was worth it because now I can see clearer than I once did. As I continue to look at life with the eyes of a student, life, happily, teaches me.

Life slowly begins to help you see what truly matters, where the true treasures are. Is this the beginning of stoicism or spirituality? There is wisdom in every facet of life — every piece of reality, every stream of words — every cluster of actions, every hill of mistakes — it all hails from somewhere and points somewhere. We only just have to look.

It is not where you are — but who you are. It is not what you have, but what you have in you.

If only I have sought knowledge and looked within, I needed not risked my life on the journey to Europe. However, if all I do is see the mistake and complain, then I have learned nothing. For would I ever be this wise to have these thoughts if I had not abandoned my land and set sail? I doubt.

We travel not to find a new place, but the find ourselves.

I’ll leave this with you…

What is it you seek? why do you seek it? And is that all your life can ever amount to?

I am not saying don’t seek that which you desire, I am saying first find wisdom — gather knowledge. Maybe just like me, you'll discover that what you truly seek is within you after all.

It is not the place that makes the difference — it is your mind, refined.

More on Medium