We are all stuck in an everyday routine, chasing a concept that humans created – time. We have a busy schedule filled with deadlines, chores and time limits. You are probably going to set an alarm and calculate how many hours of sleep you have left, then you are probably going to be awoken by that alarm clock 5 minutes early, so you have enough time to click snooze as many times as possible.
Then, you are going to get out of bed all cranky and tired, and calculate how many hours you are going to pass on the regular 9 to 5 job. You are going to wait for a bus, or be stuck in traffic. When you finally arrive, you are probably going to ignore all of your colleagues and just politely greet them with a smile that says: “Oh, you know the drill, it’s too early to talk, so I’m just going to pretend I am happy to see you, and you are going to do exactly the same”. After all the waving/ignoring, you are going to sit down, and do as you are told, again and again every day. Then, when all the work is finished, so is your will to live, and you are just going to go home with the first bus, kindly rejecting any opportunity to have coffee with a friend. After all the maths is done and there is no other calculation to be done, you are going to set the alarm, do one more calculation, and then fall asleep with your makeup on, and your hungry stomach. But is your stomach the only thing that is hungry? Why are we following a certain pattern over and over again, saying: “Life is short, you got to live it. Every day can be your last.” What is the point of knowing these things when we are not following them? Does it really count as a lesson if there is no benefit from it? Today, I got to thinking as I was driving home, from my exhausting job, do we really live? What is the difference in every day? The amount of sugar in the tea cup? The people we meet during the day? The weather? Do these things really count as a difference? Or is that difference deep within ourselves.
So I took a “wrong” turn, and I took the longer way home. I went to the beach hoping for a little clarity and hope. As I sat there looking at the perfect sky, I started wondering when was the last time I just stood and looked at it. When was the last time I had a really really hard laugh, so hard my stomach hurt? When was the last time I enjoyed something for the first time? When did I stop appreciating the people I work with? When did we go from friends to just colleagues? When was the last time I looked at my boy and really saw him? His eyes, his soul? When did I stop collecting moments? When did money get in the way of happiness? When did routine get more exciting than spontaneity? When did my inner child die? When did we stop appreciating every day, the way we appreciate those 5 minutes in the morning?
Probably, you are now going to say to yourself: “I would, but I have to work, so I can earn enough money and spend them one day in luxurious vacations and diamonds and expensive clothes.” But before you assume that my opinion is too childish, just ask yourself this one final question: “Is that “one day” guaranteed? Do we really get a second chance at life?” Think about it…