The Mosquito in Life's Mojito

The sun is shining, the weather is sweet, yeah. The emotional climate of the day is happy, humble, and honest - refreshingly simple. The amble down the road in your jandals is exactly where you want to be, a perfect slice of peace. Thoughts drift cloud-like in your mind, sprouting ideas inside your mind's bubble. Smiles pass and go with the people. It's all a dream and then - all is lost. You've found the mosquito in your life's mojito.

To the casual observer the above passage may seem an irrelevant ramble. It may stay that way for some. But for those who care for an explanation I shall make it more explicit. Life, it appears to me, is much like a wave. In any given situation there is an underlying current of expected emotion and action, which allows events to unfold smoothly. The flow of these situations is usually enabled by  good and noble thoughts: consideration for other people; acts of kindness such as opening a door; respect for people's space so as to not get in their way. A little something called emotional intelligence. Since the majority of people appear to not have evil agendas that need to be disrupted, this pattern works perfectly, seamlessly. It instills a sense of order in the world which is liquid and beautiful. Life here is your mojito.

Upon sipping the sweet nectar of the mojito, a mosquito may sometimes spy it's prey. The mosquito may come in many forms, but none of them pretty. The screech of their complaints and disturbance of the peace takes it all away. They might be the person standing in front of you in the queue, a disliked relative, a sassy schoolgirl with socks pulled high, an elderly lady crossing the road. You never do know when the mosquito will attack. But once the drone has hit the conversation and drowned out your Hegelian fantasies with it, the day is never quite the same.

Yet what is it that is so threatening about the mosquito? Well, nothing really. It is more that they disturb the current of what feels good in a situation, sucking the joy out of it for an unnecessary length of time. Upon taking the bus today I observed a prime example of the undercover mosquito: a loud-mouthed passenger. Watching the ticketing system with interest, she tried to shame the driver for no reason other than trying to assert her sense of authority. The seamless situation ruptured, my darkest frown was imparted to her to no avail; the passenger did not notice. And those of the mosquito persuasion never quite do; it's all about their own peace, since they're unable to respect the peace of others. My heart went out to the driver's pride and the tipped mojito, never to be experienced the same again. The mosquito's bitter disease infused the bus, spreading bad blood across its bitten congregation.


The moral of the story? Try not to be a mosquito, if you can help it. Most are considerate and never need to be told. Everyone has a mojito worth saving; the small irritations of life aren't where it's at. It'd just be nicer to not have to walk through their sting to learn the lesson.

The Gaol of Greatness

Great. Powerful. Important. It is these words we use to describe who we want to be. Whether we're driven by career, or by popularity, or sex, or possession, the best is where we want to be: better than we are now, or than we can imagine being. The rise of the individual has framed our mindsets to greatness in even the simplest of everyday tasks. Being the best is what drives much of our capitalistic economy, Tall Poppy Syndrome and all.

But what if instead of moving up or becoming more powerful, we could only trade places? Perhaps I should elaborate on trade: trade as in a swapping of places with another person's role in society. Is that even possible, you ask? Well, sure it is - most decisions we make in life are trades. Passenger seat or back seat? To go to uni or not to go to uni? To buy designer or not? To swear or to not to swear? The simplest of choices coalesce together to build societal roles over time that, although not fixed or even true, are perceived by different members of a given society as a particular stereotype. At least, mostly. Not the same stereotype, of course: perception is always relative to where you're sitting. But a particular personality-at-a-glance sense that differs from one person to the next. A personality-at-a-glance sense that communities often share as the same perceived identity. Hobo. Metrosexual. Teeny-boppers. Hermit. Homosexual. Categories like that.

Many of us (without generalizing) think that by moving up particular ladders designated by our society as valued (salary, position, husband/wifedom, beauty) that we'll be better off. However, after a delve into the world of oft-scary literary theory, I stole an idea, or perhaps truth, that we often forget: no societal position is with full benefits. Really, you say? I don't mean necessarily that no position is best because of differing cultural values, or personal beliefs: I mean more that any position is a trade-off for any person. Well sure, you say: moving up requires hard work in almost any circumstance. Well, yes: but the achieved position itself both excludes and includes good things, even if it is seen as higher up on the hierarchy societally. Better is not not necessarily better-off.

I suspect the modern Western mind is so infused with particular ideas of success that this is hard to stomach, perhaps believe. I have to admit the idea was spawned from a queer literary theorist, one of the most marginalized of societal roles. But where else would such an idea come from if not the marginalized? The best way to explain the concept is through illustration. In a society there is always a network of meanings that constitute where a person fits in a given situation: ideas such as class, race, position, financial security. To be a combo of any of these positions is to be enabled in some ways, disabled in others. As a blue-collar worker, one will be accepted by one group of peers but not another. The same goes for a CEO. Both will be seen in particular lights by particular people. Both will be accepted in different situations. Both will be feared in some respects and not in others; both liked and hated in the same way, as judged solely by their societal roles. They will be treated differently by different communities. Higher on the ladder is not always better: just ask a politician. Who to better demonstrate the unenviable position of needing to be liked by a majority that mostly fears or distrusts them? A change of position is not an adding to the qualities you already have: it is a downright exchange.

But why, you say, should this matter? Surely you would rather be feared as a CEO than welcomed as a binman? Well, sure: it all depends what you want out of your situation. I suppose for one starting out in the world of business the idea was a revelation to me; social advertising quickly saturates the mind with who you should aspire to be. And with social track-records like Facebook Timeline to thank, perhaps our role histories will never be removed, our trade-offs always tracked. With our century's increasing focus on everything to do with #self, the idea certainly curbs my idea of freedom. Didn't university, our parents, our society, tell us that we could do everything we wanted? I certainly missed the part where every position excluded some things to include others. Having everything is overrated - the fun's in the struggle. Guess it's just nice to know that the binman, too, has something we don't.