Shall We Dance?

Hulki Okan Tabak

I haven’t ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologise that once again I’m not in love
But it’s not as if I mind that your heart ain’t exactly breaking
It’s just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent
And I don’t learn to buy
Well, I deserve nothing more than I get
‘Cause nothing I have is truly mine

I’ve always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what’s happened to that dream
‘Cause there’s really nothing left here to stop me

If my life is for rent
And I don’t learn to buy
Well, I deserve nothing more than I get
‘Cause nothing I have is truly mine
-Dido: Life For Rent

It’s said that when the student is ready, the master appears. That is when you are receptive or yearning, or thinking about something, and then you start seeing lessons or pointers/references to that thing. We really only see what we are primed to see. That’s probably what happened to me when I was listening to Dido’s Life For Rent recently.

I can’t count how many times I have played that song over the years. But it’s been lip service, singing without the words, really “passing through.”

So, being that I have been thinking a lot about life and what it means to live a meaningful one. Defining what “meaningful” means to me. Wrestling with identity, how to be rooted enough and yet flexible enough for wonder, adventure, and imagination. Ying-yanging between a life of stability and that of freedom, basically.

That is probably why I latched onto the song this time; that was the exact conversation she seemed to be having with herself in the song.

But if my life is for rent
And I don’t learn to buy
Well, I deserve nothing more than I get
‘Cause nothing I have is truly mine

There is a sort of detachment and lack of commitment that comes with renting. You can enjoy something without fully carrying on the responsibility that comes with it. You don’t need to deal with maintenance, the mortgages, taxes, for example, that come with owning a house.

It’s a light touch.

It’s like being a grandparent; they get to enjoy great relationships with their grandkids without the actual work of parenting. They can hand them back to their parents afterwards. Lol

Renting is fleeing at the slightest sign of discomfort and stress. Having no skin in the game. No sense of responsibility or accountability. Shying away from difficult conversations.

It’s the upside without all the messiness.

But on the flip side, a light touch means you don’t get to grow roots that can anchor you. The eternal renter might not have the asset that could save them in times of emergency.

Renting is safe. You don’t have to commit; you can leave. Nothing is truly at stake. But the cost of that safety is that nothing is truly yours. You haven’t developed the relationships, chased the dreams, built the skills, put in the work, etc.

The “deserving nothing more than I get” line is having the self-awareness that as you lay bed, so shall you lie in it.

“Buying” means committing and investing in something substantial, building the equity, like I wrote about last week.

It’s sticking through the tough times.

It’s sweat and blood.

I’ve always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what’s happened to that dream
‘Cause there’s really nothing left here to stop me

Okay, buying is great, but it can be exhausting. It’s like giving birth to kids that never grow up. There is a reason why grandparents enjoy being grandparents, right?

Life for rent is holding two truths: the desire for freedom and movement, and the realisation that constantly moving is also how you avoid owning anything.

So, we have to commit. Like falling in love, you know there is a chance that you could get your heart broken, but you know the feeling is worth it. The pain of heartbreak is directly proportional to how deeply you fall in love.

But we can’t afford to overcommit, so we are not stifled.

What level of commitment is enough? You hold on too tightly, and then you don’t leave any room for living and wondering, or you hold on too loosely and don’t build anything meaningful.

Life requires the delicateness that is needed to hold a small bird; too tightly you kill it, and too loosely it flies away.

Such a delicate dance.

Keep going,

Ije