I think it’s time for me to take a moment and unload. Or at least unwind the coil of angst bubbling under my veneer.
Like many, many people I am unhappy with my job. Unhappy with my life. Unhappy with my achievements, my relationships, where I am at right now in this world. Yep, just plain unhappy. Things do actually make me happy but they are just snippets of what’s out there and what I have experienced in the past. Usually short lived and provided by a third party.
The sad part is I don’t know how to turn it all around. The even sadder part is that only I can make the shift or change.
Now I’m not talking slit my wrists unhappy but more the type of how the fuck did I get here dissatisfied. How did I get to 46 without doing all the things I wanted to do? How did I get to 46 without having a fucking PLAN? When did my dreams become more exciting than my reality? I have simply let my life dribble away. It’s getting too late.
Well that’s how it feels….
On tv last night there was an 81 year old guy who gives aqua aerobic classes about 6 times a day to old women who think he is positively dreamy. Will that be me in another 20 or 30 years? What little time rut will I stick myself in? What new fandangled technology will there be that I can’t master (especially when I can’t download to my freaking mp3 player now!). And when will I be too old to work? One of those people I have rolled my eyes at because they can’t keep up in the work place? When will I be too old to travel independently and carry a backpack? And at what age will I have to stop dying my hair and just get that short curly perm?
Yes I know, sounds ridiculous doesn’t it, but how did life get so complex and so without substance?
Well for a start I’d like to blame my parents and my upbringing but that’s a whole other ugly story so we’ll just start with something much simpler.
I’ve been imagining what it would be like to be an early settler. Since Australia is too harsh I’m going to pretend that maybe I’m from the Cold Mountain era and locale.
So the first thing I can imagine is that I live in some kind of log cabin. Just one big room dominated by the fireplace. My bed is made of rags and the windows don’t open. I don’t know who built the cabin – I can’t imagine sawing trees myself, and it scares me to think of living somewhere where I can’t lock the door.
So now I’m thinking that I live sort of into the side of a cliff and it snows in winter. But what happens in really big snow falls? How do I dig it away from the back of the house or stop it from collapsing the flimsy roof? How do I keep warm if all the logs are sodden with snow around the base?
And I figure I’d keep animals – chickens and at least a horse, maybe a goat or cow or a pig. But where do they live in winter? So I imagine some kind of barn off the side of the house. Then I imagine a little trap door from the main house into say a larder/pantry (for where my vegetables are stored) which then goes to the stable. But what about all the animal poo? Where the hell do I get rid of all that in the snow without a proper shovel or wheelbarrow?
And how much food do I need to store for all those animals over the winter months? A horse can eat a lot! Maybe I’d get so hungry one winter I’d have to kill and eat the horse?
And I couldn’t live without a dog, so the dog would need to be able to come and go from the house when it needed to.
I think I need a spring beside the house (not too close!) because fresh water is precious. There would also need to be some kind of river or creek so I could catch fish.
I’d probably need to kill other meat as well but I’d be terrified of using traps in case I closed one on myself. I guess I could shoot things? But where do I get the bullets? What if I am a bad shot like I am now? How do I keep my meat more than a day in summer? What if I hate salted meat?
And what about the dog? Does he just get the innards from what I kill or if food storage is such an issue (no fridge remember!) does he get a serve of what I’m having? Is it selfish to have a dog in the first place? Besides companionship what can he offer rather than take from me?
Then there would need to be some kind of planting arrangement. Plants for food and for the animals and maybe even to make fibres for things around the cabin? How could I keep up with all that myself? How will I have seeds from season to season? How will I know how much of everything is necessary to survive winters?
How often would I travel into town? How far away would that be? What would my transport be? If I bought in bulk how would I get it back to my cabin?
Actually what would I have to buy anything with? Could I make enough of something to sell or would I have time from simply surviving to have a skill I could offer?
And what would I wear? I’m assuming I would not have need for an actual wardrobe what with maybe only one pair of shoes and some thread bare clothing that wore out as quickly as I could patch it? Would I be warm enough? Would I look poor and hungry? Would I look weak and vulnerable? There are a lot of opportunists out there.
What if I got sick? How would the farm work get done or animals get fed? Who would care for me until I could care for myself again?
And what about hygiene? What do you make soap from? Would I have enough bowls/plates/buckets to be able to spare something to heat up and wash in regularly or does that no longer matter? What about that BO smell we are so offended by – where do I get a natural deodorant from in the bush? What about all that armpit hair? Would I even care? And where do I go to the toilet and what form of ‘paper’ will be available to me?
I’m assuming I have no power source other than my fire and no tools other than what I can make. Do I wake when it is light and sleep when it is dark or can I find things to do by firelight? I’ve probably used the paper from my books to keep me warm or wipe my bum! Do I take afternoon naps when I’m feeling a little tired even though there is always so much to do?
The answer to all these questions is I don’t know but I’m hoping that whoever raised me did and that they passed on the necessary knowledge to me so I could continue to exist. As I type that I am surprised - that’s not what I thought was going to come out of my tale of woe – a small epiphany that the end is the beginning no matter how much I’d like to pretend that dodgy foundations can be rebuilt. Everything starts somewhere – life, knowledge, hope, love, sadness.
How far away my current life is from this scenario. The current ‘threats’ to my survival include how long I will have to wait for a bus home tonight to what takeaway I am going to buy on the way home. Maybe I’ll even ‘struggle’ to find a tv show I want to watch tonight.
How did life get so meaningless and full of nothings that seem so important to my existence?
