It stays colourful.
When I wake up, for the last few days and weeks at least, I feel lost. In most senses of the word, there is no way of reaching a destination. It probably runs deeper than this though – I find myself headed for an unknown place.
So I wake, and then stupidly refuse to do anything of value. I don’t turn on the news, read anything, I write even less. I haven’t kept on top of current affairs or hit the street campaigning like I used to.
It scares me that I no longer have anything to add to the world. Whilst everyone else is sharing the highlights of their lives through images and musings on social media, I withdraw not knowing what I can share to live up to others expectations.
I no longer see the endless updates of people socialising, the significant life events of friends kept at arms length, the simplicity of being able to just live.
The problem is surmised nicely in that last point – ‘being able to just live.’ I envy anyone who has the ability to forgo a wider view of the world for their own daily happiness.*
I get that we all need to survive. It’s why I brave the Northern and Jubilee lines every morning on a tedious but satisfying commute. We all need to earn enough to keep a roof over our heads.
Even as, in one sense of the word, I know exactly what I’m doing, where I’m headed, in another I’m mindlessly entrenched in a routine that I don’t remember signing up to.
The biggest questions therefore are 'how did I get to this?', and 'how do I reach up to help shape the world once more, no matter how insignificant my contribution?'
On Saturday, I spent the early evening with some techie friends on their roof terrace before going to a housewarming on the other side of London. Surrounded by faces who all have a destiny, and are excited about the contribution they’re giving this world, it’s hard to not feel despondent.
Earlier, I had spent the day with my nephew. I wonder how both I and the world looks from the eyes of a three-year-old. I hope it stays colourful for as long as possible.
In the meantime, I wonder whether it’s the lack of reward which stops my enthusiasm. A huge part in what we all do is what we receive as a result. Maybe that’s my problem, expecting immediate payout of some kind for being selfless, when ultimately I’m a narcissist.
*I am of course being most unfair on others in the selfish attempt to make oneself feel more in tune with the world. However, it turns out that the rest of the world has got the balance correct, and I am the anomaly.