A friend recently showed me HIMYM, and as sitcoms go, it is amazing. Each episode is unique, original, and legitimately funny, unlike some sitcoms.
How I Met Your Mother is about a guy named Ted Mosby. Father of two kids, he tells them through flashbacks the epic journey he and his four best friends took leading up to him meeting their mother.
It’s one of the few shows that has made me look back on my life with the same level of nostalgia.
Ted more than many of the others believes in finding “The One” and struggles to find her over the course of several years. He is a romantic and his dream in life is to find “the One”, get married, and have a family.
A common theme of the show is the power of coincidence, in which, there are many moments where Ted could have met the Mother, but the time wasn’t right for them to see each other yet. Many moments like “I learned later that your mother was in that classroom” or “Your mother also went to that bar on St. Patty’s Day, but we never met then.”
As an INFP, I relate a lot to Ted. (And to Marshall, his personality is very similar to mine as well).
I struggle a lot with finding my meaning in life. I need to know that my life means something or that it’s leading up to something. This desperate need of mine produces many untarnished images in my head.
Maybe I could become a better writer, be well known for my writing, or perhaps write things so beautiful, even if I don’t have a large audience, I can touch the hearts of those who read my work.
Maybe I could become a great psychologist. Either I could go into research and discover secrets of the mind no one has yet found. Or I could be a counselor, help kids, families, couples, and people emotionally to get back on track with life.
Or maybe I could find “the One”. Be a great husband. A great father. Raise a family, have a job, adopt a dog, and move into a big house.
It’s strange. As an INFP, I feel the need to be unique, I don’t enjoy conformity. I like free thinking.
Yet, a part of me yearns to be like everyone else. I want, like some people might put it, the social constraints of marriage and family. Obviously, I don’t believe that they are, well, “constraints”, and even though I personally believe in a reason why marriage and family is something many people yearn for as well, I still find these notions fascinating.
I feel as though my life hasn’t yet begun. It’s crazy to think that I’m in college now. I’ve made it through my childhood, and those are moments I will never get back. This nostalgia, these memories, those photos my parents took of me as a kid, those are all constructs of a stage of my life that is permanent. I can’t get those days back. Do I want to? Was my childhood good enough? I believe so.
It feels strange to be here, now, in college. While I am having a great time, I can’t help but feel like I’m trapped in a series of 4 years and maybe 2 or more years of graduate school. When will my life begin? Hasn’t it already? Will there ever be a time where my perfect ideas of being a great writer, psychologist, husband, and father come into fruition?
I’ve struggled in the past with feeling the need to be a perfect writer, or at least, to find my voice and style, both of which with the ability to amaze others. It’s easy to compare myself to the likes of J. K. Rowling and C. S. Lewis. I’ve learned that my style will continue to change and that there is no “perfect” writer. At least, I may reach a point where my style is good enough for publication, but it will always change as I continue to mature and grow.
I’m often in hopeful desperation like Ted Mosby. I believe wholeheartedly that “the One” is out there, and even though I have no control in this, I hope that it’s God’s will for my life to eventually lead into those “perfect” ideas I have for my future.
In a way, I believe in fate, like Ted Mosby, but there’s no really telling if I will ever become any of those things. I’m more than okay with becoming whatever God wants me to be, and so far, He’s led me here.
Lately, I’ve felt a little panicky. I’ve felt both like life couldn’t move any faster and also like life is moving too fast. I’ve worried that one day I’ll wake up to wrinkled, old hands and think, “What have I done with my life? What about all those dreams I had for myself?”
I stress out and quickly begin to try and finish projects I recently abandoned. I need to study German, become fluent. I need to finish my book. My blog needs updating. My career needs to be studied more so that when I get out of college I know where to get a job.
I need my life to mean something. Thus, I often seek for maybe even earthly ideas of success. There’s nothing wrong with dedicating my life to God, is there? There’s nothing wrong with trying to praise and glorify Him via my continued journey of a writer, my praise of His creation via being a psychologist, is there?
I feel nostalgic for times of old. Regretting that I hadn’t done more in my past. Things I’ve achieved don’t seem to be good enough. I have to be better.
Sorry if this seems like a long tangent from HIMYM. The show spurted several feelings I’ve had for a while.
Ted’s dream is to build a skyscraper so that from the coastline of New York, he can point it out to his kids and say, “Look, I built that.” For most of the show, however, his dreams of being an architect struggle to become a reality. Often, his projects are thrown away by supervisors or he is only able to use his career by teaching architecture to students.
I feel the same way. I just want my ideas to come to fruition. I want my life to mean something. There is a deep desperation inside of me for my life to mean something to God and to the others around me.
I guess I just feel like I’m stuck. Stuck at 19. Stuck as a sophomore in college. Stuck being single. Stuck being a somewhat-okay writer with zero books written.
If my past self could see me now, would he be disappointed? I mean, there’s not much I can do now. I’m just a college student.
Sure, I’m in college. This is great. This was my dream, to graduate high school and go to college. Meet great people. Study what I’m passionate about. I’ve living my dream.
Has my life begun yet? Has my life started to mean something?
I want my life to begin. I want it to be the day where I’ve met “the One”. I want to have a bachelor’s in Psychology. I want to have written a book that is about to go into publication.
For now, I guess I’m stuck. Is it so much for me to ask for more? Is it too much to ask for my life to meaning something now? Does it? Will it?
I don’t know.
I guess all I have to say now, here at the end, is that I love How I Met Your Mother. It’s a great comedy show, and it’s definitely made me think a lot about my past and my purpose in life.
I know my life has a meaning. Guess I still have yet to find it.