Wednesday, 6 July 2016

Time is precious, but passing quickly.

My clock is ticking. 
It is driving me mad, consuming my thoughts and making me feel unfulfilled in my every day life. It’s been ticking for quite a while but I have sedated it with interesting life activities, with journeys and wanderings, with charitable donations, building meaningful friendships and adventurous frolics. Yet it ticks on, louder and louder in my ear.

It is not the tick tock you would think. 
Yes, I am forty and I have already chosen not to have any children of my own. I have stated my reasons for this before. But the tick tock clock I hear every day is the ticking clock of my own mortality and the calling, the NEED I have to get out of this rut and bloody well do something of meaning.

The world is a sad and terrible place right now. A place I am glad my mother did not live to see. A place where all her efforts of taking aid packages to war torn countries, working as a nurse in A&E, volunteering to support those suffering from the loss of family to addiction, a place where all the good work she did has resulted in the world being in a worse state. She would be distraught. I feel her dismay from beyond the grave.

Our political systems are fucked, we are too greatly influenced by the lies of people we cant relate to, by the lies of the TV, the media and social networks. People actively show hatred and ignorance daily, not just in their personal circles but in public, in people’s faces and online where their putrid opinions circulate and re-circulate the world.

We are polluting this beautiful planet and ultimately our food source, we are mass farming animals for slaughter, we are killing bumble bees, illegally fishing tuna from oceans with increasing radiation levels. And the food we do provide we pump full of chemicals, to make it last longer, to make it more profitable, to make us develop cravings and withdrawals and habits that we feed feed feed.

We are making love to money and taking love right out of everything.

People are swapping common sense and integrity for possessions and belongings.

No one is grateful for their daily bread, they all say thanks to the supermarket instead.

We do not work for the right things, strive for the right things or respect and praise the right things for which we are lucky enough to receive.

People increasingly don’t know how to build a fire, cook in the wild, get through each day on the bare minimum. And more than that, there is so little respect for diversity, individuality, for being unique, different and a singular part of a collective whole.

As a human race, we are missing the point and I am at the point of despair. And my clock is ticking.

I feel responsible for my part in this rat race, I want to do more. I am caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, a rock and a hard place. When all I actually want is to live simply, to be wholesome and content, ultimately contribute in some way to make a difference towards the plight of the human being and the saving of mother earth.

I watch the clock from my kingsize bed, as I get up for work, filled with nothing but dread. I watch the clock on my pc from my office chair, the slowest place for time passing, trying to do my best to make a difference but really no one cares. I watch the clock on my mobile as I eagerly leave to go home, a whole load of strategic meaningless nothing completed today that prevents nothing, helps nothing, and actually means nothing. I do a meaningless job and I feel it too.

I am just two days back from two weeks off and I couldn’t be more distressed at the months ahead.

I need to figure out fast what I should be doing instead.

Time is precious.

Apparently stress is caused by being here and wanting to be there, I am not present in my own presence. I am thinking forward. And I feel stress. My mind is projecting two years ahead when I will qualify and can leave this job. When I will feel more in control of my own destiny. Once time is my own, once bills are less, once uni is over, once life costs less. My mind is projecting forward to an unknown time when my GF will be fully en femme, fully confident and we can then attack life, go places, do things, travel, help, donate, live without the looming worries of prejudice, inequality and discrimination. Maybe as women we will never fully experience that level of freedom and acceptance but in my mind it is out there, ahead. I project to a time when we live on our country land, with sustainable food sources, generating our own energy, when we are off grid and low impact living.

But if I was there now, would I be content? I am unsure. The state of the world troubles me deeply. The hatred I hear nudges me to get up, step out of my protected space and shout back, LOVE LOVE LOVE you fools! We are all one! These are your brothers and sisters. We share a home with these ur creatures and these beautiful diverse humans.
When you harm them, you harm yourselves!

What I want to be doing right now is helping, preparing, building, giving, learning how on earth we can survive this attack from all sides, suppressed from the top down and literally blown apart from the bottom up. How do we override these lords and ladies who think they are our voice? These structures that govern us in ways we do not agree, with weapons we do not want.

I need to be travelling the world and helping war orphans, bringing clean water devices to far flung third world villages, campaigning against arctic fuel drilling, against arctic blasting, fighting against killing the Bee’s with GMO crops, protecting endangered species and standing against those who abuse the vulnerable. Campaigning for more renewable energy use, for better green policy in our governments. Working abroad where these things are better implemented and learning to bring back home. Making chutney, digging emergency shelters, moving to a region where the Green party exist.
Doing a damn sight more than I am doing sitting here.

As I ponder my discontent I hear the clock tick tocking. The clock of once upon a time: ‘once I have the money’, ‘once we have moved’, ‘once I have qualified’, ‘once the family has…’


Before you know it, it will be the end of time, no more once’s to consider before I do something bigger. No more time to help. The waiting is over. It is over. Not enough people rose to the occasion, there was no revolution, everyone was too busy trying to survive, the end is…well it is the end.

Or BOOM I will have died. And it is still the end. My sixty three years foretold and gone, my contribution nothing but a wasted hope and dream left for me to repent in the next life.

If there is such a thing.

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