It has taken me some amount of time to understand that life is not a noun, but a one word question. Yes, I know the bit about breathing and oxygenating the blood and pumping hearts et cetera, but that’s biology. We don’t seem to equate the life of an ant with our own, so we must be talking about something different here.
Life? The question is about what we do with our time while we are breathing. Remember here that when we finally stop breathing, it will be for a very, very, very long time. So this life question is really about activity. Douglas Adams famously said the only things that made humans happy, were little pieces of green paper. (Place your own colour here for your preferred currency.) All too true. Sadly. The reason they make us happy is that they can be transformed into food, shelter, clothes and Apple iPhones. (Douglas would have loved the iPhone! Pity he stopped breathing in 2001 though.)
So what do we do when there’s precious few of these little pieces of paper for us to convert? We get upset of course. And strangely, so do people who have a lot of these pieces of paper. They get upset because it takes a lot of worry to look after them and make them grow and multiply.
So what’s the answer? To this life question? Activity!!
Stop doing what you think you should do, and do what you want to do when you want to do it. But make sure this does not consume those little pieces of paper. Not possible huh? Well, what about walking? Dancing? Singing? Writing your life story for your kids and grand kids? Start a blog and tell the world your thoughts. Grow some herbs. Do something creative with garbage. Procrastinate. Read books from the library. Draw a picture. Chat with a friend face to face. (No SMS, text, Facebook or Twitter here.) Get a life!
Ok, I know. Work. That dirty four letter word. So we have been dropped into a world where we are really just the ant I mentioned before. So maybe we should equate ourselves with the little fella. The people with all the pieces of paper have designed our society to be totally dependent on these pieces of paper, and they designed this thing called work so they could use us to make more pieces of paper for themselves. No escape I’m afraid. Unless you want to starve and sleep under a tree in the rain.
But maybe, we can spend less time working for these bastards, and find more time in life for ourselves. Just think about giving them less of your life each day. And keep it for yourself.