Are we afraid of living?

It’s a new year, which means the unavoidable barrage of posts about the past year’s achievements and the future year’s goals. But what if you don’t have a dreamy vision for your new year?

The forty-something-year-old Carol in Netflix’s Carol and the End of the World faces this very problem. Except, instead of being confronted by a new year, Carol along with every other person on the planet is confronted by a glowing turquoise planet hurtling towards the Earth’s surface. It is quite literally, as the title of this animated miniseries suggests, the end of the world.

The more the ominous planet grows above their heads, the more social expectations and norms are tossed out the window. Society becomes unrecognisable as everyone becomes obsessed with living out their grandest desires. Everyone apart from Carol, that is. While people around her turn to globe-trotting, nudism, and lawlessness, Carol finds herself clinging to what life used to be. She goes grocery shopping, gets an office job, and bakes banana bread. Yet, the hold Carol has on her everyday routine concerns her parents who just want her to get a life.

"You’re doing it, sweetheart. You’re living!"

– Carol's Mom

We all want or have wanted to create a life for ourselves that feels bigger than the one we’re already living. But what makes a bigger life? For some of us, it might look like ditching the nine-to-five for something more gratifying. And for others of us, it might look like exploring our childhood hobbies during the five-to-nine. However, it’s not just about what our “best lives” look like. It’s also about how we come to discover what we want our best lives to be.

With seven and a half months left until Earth is obliterated, Carol is overwhelmed by the pressure to go out and chase her dreams. Everyone around her seems to launch into a blazing pursuit of their ambitions. But that’s not the case for Carol who is in no rush to make the most of her last weeks on Earth.

Carol embodies the reality that our “purpose” as individuals is not necessarily something inherent within us to be discovered. Rather, our purpose can emerge and flourish wherever we find ourselves, whether exploring the world on a luxury cruise or sharing baked goods with our co-workers in the break room.

Carol and the End of the World is a testament to the beauty of nurturing the small, ordinary lives we have. Yet, at the same time, it’s an encouragement to stop waiting around for permission — or an apocalyptic event — to go in search of the lives we want.

If you’ve found value, joy, or comfort in The Kulturalist, consider clicking the button below to support my work. Your generosity keeps the words flowing. Thank you for being here!