Nonfiction · Prose

Weight, it is.

Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, to take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.
What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?

I chose weight. Better yet, I’d like to say I’ve been choosing weight, with the strongest conviction my voice can mutter.

Upon reading and pondering from Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, I found myself smiling and coming up with a realization: Choosing between lightness and weight is a choice you have to make everyday. If you’re lucky enough, it’s a choice you get to make a couple of times as the day goes on. Just like how we choose to love someone, our actions and thoughts defined by our choices.

And yet, I still wasn’t able to answer the posing question of what “shall” it is to be chosen. The statement implying that somehow there’s an option that must likely should be taken than the other.

Without certainty of what’s right and wrong between the two, I’d still choose weight. I’d choose to carry the burden. I’d choose to feel the pain, the sorrow, and the joy. I’d choose to be human and live. With that said, I can’t bear the thought of insignificance.

Going back on the constant struggle of choosing, I’ve always believed that there’s honor in standing up for what you believe in, and living up to its consequeces. Does it really matter if you pick lightness over weight? Or isn’t choosing already a brave and bold move, regardless of your choice?

Aren’t we all a product of our choices?

One thing’s for sure, and I definitely do agree with Milan Kundera upon saying this, “The lightness/weight opposition is the most mysterious, most ambiguous of all.”


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