Living on the Edge

There is an episode of Dexter where he has a flashback of himself as a child standing on the rooftop edge of a building. His eyes are closed, arms spread eagle, and head tilted back. His dad comes rushing from behind him and grabs hold of him, asking in fear why he was trying to kill himself. Dexter answers (something of the sort),

"I am not trying to kill myself. I am trying to feel alive."

I am reminded that many of us also suffer from this chronic ailment, and we each have our individual methods of coping. Some prefer to shop, play sports, drink (alcohol), work, etc. I, like the enthusiasts of this NYtimes article, ventured out to New Zealand to experience its Utopian wonders. Often hailed as one of the happiest countries on Earth, the most beautiful place on Earth, and the most adventurous place on Earth, many people flock to NZ to give their own lives a much needed jolt. There's plenty of panaceas to choose from: jumping out of planes or off bridges, retreating to our primitive lives with gorgeous pre-industrial lakes and scenery, rolling down a hill in a plastic ball, boogie boarding in class 4 rapids, flying with a pair of man-made wings, etc.

Kiwi-land is heaven for thrill-seekers and nature-lovers, but my main concern is that our actions are not solutions. We do not try to understand the fundamental reasons for our discontentment, but rather, continue to chase after short-term gratifications. When we're shopping, drinking, or jumping out of an airplane, we certainly experience the inexplicable feeling of "living," but a couple of minutes later, when all is said and done, what have we achieved? When we return to our daily lives - the situations that drive our frustrations and dissatisfactions - do we not return to our same self and emotions? What are we to do - continue to jump out of planes every day?