We find ourselves in a conundrum. Knowing what we know and knowing we have little we can do about it. We sit ourselves down to righteously write our brilliant thoughts, extreme judgments and sincere frustrations to an obscene amount of invisible people and yet we cannot tell simple truth to our faces. We dive into countless depictions of beautiful scenery and eloquent words all so pain stakingly arranged on our computer screen, dreaming and wishing and allowing the visuals to place bandages on our wants, needs, desire, and dreams, but… when its time to shut that screen down?…
What was once vibrant colour and life, brilliant battles fought between rights and wrongs, passions ignited and emotions spent is now.. gone. That deafening whir of silence as your desktop screen goes to sleep or the nasty click as your hand-held shuts down. Your life is now the scary world of grey, dismal responsibilities and real human faces that come at you with such ferocity that the withdrawal of your lost dreamland has caused painful coronary attack like symptoms, that sharp agonizing sensation you get right in that place where, just a moment ago, was alight with blissful desire in one form or another.
We have simply lost our way, we cannot find it in ourselves to vacate what utter joy and release we had and will have received from that visual place on a world-wide web of fantasy that we become utterly and bitterly stuck there.Meanwhile, as we grumble and bumble about things happening outside our doors, we continue to pin, paste, tweet, like, link, hoot and share the beauty and the beast from our screens to another’s, of things, found literally, outside our door, of which neither the beast is being rectified nor sadly, the beauty, explored. We have become caught up in the instant gratification that is our lives, in front of a screen, behind closed doors.
Having a delightful, insightful conversation with a friend of mine, on-line, of course, sadly Im not even sure what part of town she lives in… was refreshing, nonetheless. She assisted me in catching the words of despair as they spilled from my brain through the keyboard for all to witness and held them, thankfully, without judgment. She helped me realize that those reams of sadness that abrupt from nowhere, clean my slate and leave me lifeless as a rock for days on end are from something beyond the bindings I have wrapped myself in.
We have dreams, oh yes we do and we search and read, post and share along with everyone else exactly what those dreams are. But, will they come true, probably not, as long as we sit on our proverbial asses in front of a computer screen only envisaging about them, drooling desperately over what could be. Our soul’s deepest sadness comes from a nostalgic life from another time. A time where neighbours knew each other, children played games of imagination, birth was scary, death was part of life and emotions were respected. Women especially, would literally gather each other in their arms to soothe, or talk, or listen, pamper and appease until the bluest of moments had passed, in times of trouble, of need, or birth and death. Our souls crave the time where deep sadness was not a life’s ‘complaint’ and a dream was a reality. Where good was found in an abundance of selfless acts, bad was not a rebellion or an uneducted, forced choice and laws were simple. Where we worked hard at living and took sweet blessed time for life…
I do suppose, this is where my need to live in smaller spaces, have less ‘stuff’, garden, read, write, and have a good darn cry once in a while comes from. We have made our lives so difficult and strenuous that we have turned into a myriad of human pressure cookers waiting to burst, and what comes when one bursts? Well take a look around, it doesn’t take a computer screen to tell you what truths lie right outside your door.
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