The Way I View My Life

A Sisyphean Life

Roll up a boulder to a top of a hill. See the huge, heavy piece of rock roll down the hill. This is the infamous punishment King Sisyphus had to face for infinite times in the famous Greek myth.

And indeed, I believe that my life doesn’t share much differences from this frustrating penalty that King Sisyphus had to suffocate every day. My life is also consisted of hundreds of “boulders” that I have to mount towards the top of the “hill” with so much effort and simply sit and watch them falling back down with hopeless, frustrated eyes. When I am just about to think that a boulder tagged “Academically successful life in elementary school” is over, “Good grades in Middle School” appears, while “Entrance to KMLA” is idly waiting on the queue.” Even after the “Entrance to KMLA” boulder (that used to so easily fool me that ‘this one would be the end’) is successfully located on the hill top, suddenly a series of huge, colossal rocks named “Good GPAs” or “Entrance to Ivy League Schools” appears.

Yes, I’m starting to get extremely bored and somewhat “immune” to the mental (and sometimes physical) pain I feel as I see all my effort invested in pulling up the rock go into vain. The frustration and fatigue I feel has now become so evident that I’m almost in the state of “expecting” an another objective to pursue by the time I’m done with my work with the previous rock. Now, as I see the boulder running away from me down the hills, the pain I feel is finally almost close to nothingness. I’ve grown so numb out of it.

Yet, I do not think that my Sisyphean life would be that much different from others. Others would have their own boulders and rocks to roll up the hill; it’s just the color and the size that could differ. Even for those who seem to be worriless about their lives and future, they’re simply ignoring the rocks (which is probably growing in size as time goes by) that they would have to push up someday, somehow.

But no, I do NOT believe that my interpretation on life is too cynical or pessimistic, as some might assert it to be. The way I put it is this: it is everybody’s fate to roll up infinite amounts of boulder until he/she dies, so (since there’s no way to escape except for committing suicide) the best I could do is to make the boulder be more shining and colorful.

I now ask a question to myself : Would Sisyphus’s life have really been a "punishment" if he had the option to “choose” what kind of boulder he would like to push and be evaluated based on the quality of the rock? No.

My life is not a condemnation, a type of punishment, or something to be cursed and be bored upon. Rather, it is something to celebrate. To celebrate the choice, the freedom given to me upon what kind of life I want to live, what kind of boulder I want to put up on the top of the hill. Even if it would roll back down as soon as I put it up.