The Little Things

By Features and Opinions Editor Cian Walsh

(Preface: much of this article is satire. Some parts of it are not. I’ll let you decide which is which.)

One night on Q3, a youtube short had come up for me that had clipped an interview of Kurt Cobain talking about his envy of the “blissfully happy.” As a guy who loves Nirvana very much and procrastinating even more, this was the perfect fit for my ever exhausted and unmotivated brain. I thought it was just another short clip of an idolised musician I enjoy from an era where playing and philosophy had been entangled with one another. Granted, that is exactly what it was but alas, I don’t want to work on my dissertation at this time and I’m making it your problem. Still though, to take something away from his sentiment that some people have this innate gift to enjoy life’s smaller and simpler pleasures is that maybe it’s less common than we think. 

I like to see myself as a realist, which is a self-serving and proud way of saying that for me, the glass just shattered to pieces on a tiled kitchen floor rather than half-full or empty. It’s tiresome but it wins arguments. It’s also not specific to me. Everyone nowadays is far more involved or interested in the bigger picture than they are the smaller, more particular and god forbid, nice things in life. There’s something novel about appreciating what’s in front of you when you’re typically not seeing the wood from the trees. It’s sweet, it’s kind, it makes me think, “Damnit. My therapist was right!” Above all else, it’s a nice change of pace. 

Sometimes when I’m feeling particularly insufferable and find myself giving unwarranted advice to friends both smarter and richer than I, they throw a question at me asking “Who are you saying this for?” To which I am immediately stunned and respond “How dare you imply there’s a deeper meaning behind my nihilistic sentiments? What kind of friend are you?” It’s the sort of response held by someone who is far too sensitive to admit a shortsightedness in their approach to life. Sure, if I solely bother myself with the intricacies of life and how I can be a better person every single second of every day, you’d probably tell me to chill the hell out and get snickers or something. I’m not myself when I’m hungry to be fair. 

I have this friend from school. We’ll call him Ned. I have never once seen him stressed in the many years I’ve known him. It’s infuriating. How dare he? Does he not know that I’m currently wrestling with a bunch of made up issues in my head that have spiralled so far out of control that my only viable option for rehabilitation could be actual rehabilitation? I’m envious of him, the same way I’m sure Kurt Cobain was of the many people in his life that weren’t self-burdened with ideas of life’s purpose and the failures of mankind in what is the most advanced period of technology and capability that the world has ever seen. Damn you, Ned. Would swap places with him in an instant all the same. He’s still got a ridiculous work ethic, pays his own way where he needs to and knows where he stands with the world. When he’s finished up what might be a 10 or 11 hour work day, he knows the rest is up to him. He’s got the little things to get him through until tomorrow. Whatever those little things could be. Maybe it’s a drink with your friends, a night in with a loved one, maybe it’s having nowhere in particular to be. I would really enjoy having nowhere in particular to be right about now. 

It’s a strange crossroads to be at where you want to be driven by your passions and give enough time and effort into the things that matter to you. You wonder though if there’s a level of diminishing marginal returns from trying so hard and giving that much of yourself to something. Maybe this is the point where we try to take a step back and enjoy those little things for the novelties they are.

It is not to say that the blissfully happy aren’t driven and caring in their everyday lives. It’s the total opposite, in fact. Those people who live without regular stress, such as our good pal Ned, are just the ones who have figured out what that balance is between the big and little things. The hard days get done as they have to and then the world is their oyster. Many college students wrestle with themselves in finding that balance. In letting go of their envy–whatever it may be. We all see this balance differently, however. I’ll use myself as an example given that this article doesn’t yet meet my criteria of self-involvement. I live at home and I have done so for all of college. As far as I’m aware, I’ll never experience living out of home for college. I didn’t do an Erasmus either. I may never know that experience either. I’m not regretful of the life I've had since August of 2022 but I’m curious about the one I didn’t. I’m envious of those who got to do either or both of those things. Probably for nothing more than novelty alone. 

I wanted to know what those things are like simply because I don’t. Simply because I’ve never woken up on college road or in Bróga house and scrambled myself together for a lecture that starts in 15 minutes. I’ve always worried about bus times or where I’ll park my car; how much I need to pay for that parking. I’ve never had a single friend in my life who lived within a walking distance. Or at least a safe one. The Mallow road is a scary place lads. That being said, I’m also not paying an obscene rent price for moldy bathrooms and lead in my water just so I could have experienced all the very menial things I’ve mentioned. Novelties, eh? Oh how they would make a 21-year-old man with hyperfixations and a platform go a bit crazy. 

With the remainder of this article I’d like to end what’ll likely be my last piece in Motley magazine on a more positive, God forbid, even more wholesome note. There was a great level of novelty doing this at the beginning. I had said to myself that I would submit to Motley ever since first year because my older sister may or may not have been the editor at one point. That was one of those envious from afar sort of moments I mentioned before. It was cool to think her name would be at the forefront of great articles every month that anyone could read at any time. Now, my name is at the forefront of some, dare I say, half-decent and meaningful ones. The novelty never actually wore off. It’s always pretty cool to have your name at the top of something you care about. As well as that, it’s pretty cool to care. Whether it be for the big things or the little ones.