Life, they say, is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're going to get.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
I think that's nonsense.
You know you're going to get chocolates in your box of chocolates, by definition.
No, life is far more unpredictable than a box of chocolates.
When I moved to Wagga 12 months ago I could never have predicted that I'd be spending most of 2020 cooped up at home in my dressing gown, thinking up creative substitutes for toilet paper.
In the height of the toilet-paper-buying frenzy I met an old fellow who told me he was stocking up on copies of The Daily Advertiser to use in a pinch.
At last, I thought, my journalism is providing a tangible service to society. I guess that arts degree wasn't a waste of time after all.
Chafing skin wasn't the only thing I had to grow accustomed to during lockdown. Our office asked us to start working from home in March, several weeks before the whole of Wagga went into lockdown.
I must admit I was quite excited at the prospect of being locked up at home. I thought it was the perfect chance to shut myself away from the outside world and focus on self-improvement.
I'd emerge from lockdown with rippling six-pack abs, a mastery of several foreign languages, and having achieved profound spiritual enlightenment.
It didn't quite work out that way.
Without a gym instructor yelling at me to do pushups or an editor breathing down my neck to make sure I wasn't goofing off, I needed to learn self-discipline.
I needed to tune out the siren call of Facebook, YouTube and Netflix if I was to ever cage my monkey brain and get it to do my bidding.
The modern distraction economy doesn't make it easy, though. The almighty algorithm knows your every weakness and it will exploit them without mercy.
Much like the Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter, it knows what you truly desire.
I may have logged into YouTube with every intention to watch Noam Chomsky lectures, but my YouTube recommendations know that I'd rather be watching "EPIC FAIL COMPILATION 36!!!"
I might have subscribed to Netflix in order to watch high-brow arthouse films, but the algorithm quickly discovered my true tastes and my recommendation list grew trashier and trashier.
This is the Brave New World in which we live, one in which every whim is satisfied and every desire is gratified.
The internet gives us exactly what we want before we even knew we wanted it.
Our social media news feeds are custom tailored to appeal to our political biases, showing us a bespoke version of reality that most appeals to our personal prejudices.
We can connect with other human beings behind three layers of Instagram filter, allowing us to live in our very own emerald city, free from blemish and imperfection.
But if I've learnt anything during lockdown, it's that human beings weren't meant to get everything they want all the time.
Lockdown also taught me a lot about myself, namely that I cannot be trusted with infinite free time and unlimited internet.
I know I'm not alone here: one of my friends spent lockdown drinking scotch and playing 10 hours of Animal Crossing a day. Another spent all his time doomscrolling and arguing with strangers on Twitter.
We all reverted back to our degenerate university lifestyles, subsisting on a diet of two-minute noodles and spending most of the day lounging around in our underwear.
This is what happens when are isolated from one another, away from a community of people who can hold each other accountable for their actions.
Of course, there are others out there who have stronger wills than I. A friend of mine managed to lose 38 kilograms in bodyweight during lockdown, proving that there are those who have achieved self-discipline.
Self-discipline is freedom from oneself, freedom from the primitive impulses that push us towards short-term gratification at the expense of long-term wellbeing.
I might not have emerged out of lockdown with rippling abs or the ability to play the guitar, but I did manage to achieve at least a little bit of self-discipline.
I got back into the habit of reading books for the first time since high school, and I am proud to say I managed to force myself to finish about 15 volumes since this time last year.
I taught myself some healthy new recipes and learnt how to make vegetarian dishes when all the meat vanished from the shops.
I picked up some photography skills, and I've finally plucked up the courage to get off of auto mode and start experimenting with manual settings.
I didn't achieve everything I'd hoped, but I can at least say I'm a slightly less pathetic person than I was this time last year.
READ MORE:
My new year's resolution for 2021 is to learn some more self-discipline, to live life uncomfortably, to spend less time on the internet, to prevent my monkey brain from having its way all the time.
I have no idea whether I'll be more successful this year, but all I can do is try my best and hope for a better future.
After all, life is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're going to get.
Kenji Sato is a reporter for The Daily Advertiser.
Kenji Sato
Kenji Sato is a handsome journalist at The Daily Advertiser who enjoys writing flattering bios about himself in the third person. He can be contacted by email at kenji.sato@dailyadvertiser.com.au or by mobile on 0448 927 612.
Kenji Sato is a handsome journalist at The Daily Advertiser who enjoys writing flattering bios about himself in the third person. He can be contacted by email at kenji.sato@dailyadvertiser.com.au or by mobile on 0448 927 612.
