The Weekend Performance

Come Sunday, I hit the society block in my earnest but usually failed attempt to burn off the calories so diligently earned during the Friday movie night and Saturday's generous feast. As I approach my familiar turn in the society garden, my eyes unwillingly fall on a millennial couple I know (not out of choice). They're wrapped in a warm, cozy blanket, mufflers, and enjoying a mug of caffeine. And honestly, who wouldn't be?

Sunday mornings here are peacefully beautiful. We've got a fish pond (though lately, it seems to have been taken over by croaking, ugly frogs), with seating arrangements carefully placed amidst marigolds, roses, wandering jews, and countless other local creepers I can barely name. So, let's just call them all equally exotic and beautiful.

I spot the husband meticulously taking pictures of his wife as she poses for 'meditation' in her swanky Puma outfit, perfectly matched by her beloved partner's. They pause their photography as I pass, quieting down. 'None of my business,' I tell myself, continuing to chase my calories with Eminem screaming in my ears. 'I need to eat lighter next weekend,' I claim, half-knowing I'll barely remember that promise when the clock strikes 5 PM come Friday evening.

As I continue to run and near the pond for my second round, the couple is now busy making a video of their meditation. Once again, they hit pause while I pass them by. 'Damn, they must be cursing me,' I mutter to myself.

My third-round approaches, and I see them both meditating from the far end. 'Finally!' I think, 'they'll get down to serious business now.' But to my surprise, I then see their kid, who has now stopped cycling and moved across the pond to get their video of the meditation, from a distance.

By now, I'm equally tired of their meditating masks, and I'm quite sure they're tired of seeing my jiggled ass judging them round after round. As I approach them on my last round, I notice all three of them on their gadgets, busy typing. I could almost see the captions forming: ‘#SundayVibes #PeacefulMorning #SlowLiving #Gratitude.’

And that's the rub, isn't it? We, as humans, are these glorious, contradictory beings. We crave authentic moments of quietude, but then also feel obligated to document them for the internet’s validation.

We seek inner peace, yet frequently find ourselves in a subtle dance of performance for an unseen, unknown audience. This couple, seemingly eager to experience 'slow living,' was, in their own way, just as caught up in a modern hustle to showcase it – the hustle for likes, for affirmation, for projecting an ideal.

And me? While I was externally chasing calories, I was also busy internally judging their every posed breath. This subtle human duality plays out quietly everywhere we go. From the meticulously curated social feeds to the unspoken judgments, we cast on a Sunday morning. We desire true presence in the moment, yet repeatedly prioritize its presentation.

True peace, slow living, isn't found in a perfectly captured moment, but in simply letting the moment be, unrecorded and unjudged. We're all navigating this performance, chasing our own versions of ‘zen,’ often while playing both the actor and the critic in our daily lives.