Reflection
Thursday, December 15th, 2005I’ve been back in the real world (Northeast US) for almost five months now, and a thought just crept into my brain. Here, in the life that I’ve known for all but one month of my 22 years, I feel like a car waiting in a garage. Every day at the same time, I sputter along to work, where my mind and body are used to an end that totally conflicts with my personal views and values. In exchange, I’m given food, shelter, clothing and government-sanctioned drugs. When I’m not at work, I’m parked at my computer, where I sit in a holding pattern, eternally consuming information to no recognized end, until my time is requested elsewhere, either by other people or some obligation.
I didn’t have this feeling when I was traveling, and I think that’s what was so liberating about it. I had to make every day meaningful for myself. Sure, there were some days that weren’t very exciting, but on those days I had no one else to blame. I couldn’t sit back and complain about a boring job or being tired. Every day was created for me to do with what I wished. These days, it feels like days are created by my employer to get as much work done as I can and be exhausted at the end of the day.
I feel that itch rising up. I know right where my backpack is, and everything that I’d bring with me on this trip. Stay tuned.
Mark