The Importance of Being Idle

One of the things that I have always both hated and admired are people who can live by a 'routine' every single day of their lives. When I say people who live by routines, I mean the people who ritualistically wake up at the same time every day, go downstairs or down the hall, have a shower, go to the kitchen eat breakfast, brush their teeth, make coffee for their short commute to work with the same amount of milk and sugar. They go to work, greet the same people every morning, chat about the same things during their lunch break, usually eat the same food every lunchtime, go back to work, get in their car/train/bus, read the same paper. All this from Monday to Friday. These same people at the weekends, go to the same bar, drink the same drinks and socialise with the same people and talk about the same few things. What interests me about these people is that very few seem to read books, they watch TV though. The same programmes every day/week at the same time and god forbid they miss their scheduled programming at all...that would be a disaster. I personally cannot live by routines...while I may appear to, I have always flourished when being completely ambitionless for the day. If I sit down to go online, I usually have no agenda. I sit, think, write a little, check my messages and then procrastinate from living life by having a 'surf' of the wonders of the internet. More often than not, I find myself searching in job sections for that perfect career. The one where I can work from home at my computer and get paid handsomly.
Every no and then I sit back and think about this. Should one have goals in life? I maintain that I myself do indeed have goals. However, while I realise that some things are just not meant to be, for example, I know that I will probably never be a rockstar like I had planned when I was 16. Nor will I be that Pulitzer prize winning journalist (although I like to think one day that I could take a stab at it). When I think about all this I start to wonder, what is the point in having goals? And when we have goals, should they be "realistic"? If so, why? I doubt we need fear criticism ringing bells similar to John McEnroe's courtside lament; "You Cannot Be Serious?".
Last week, I met a girl who said to in some respect rocked my world. While not in a sexual way, although she was very attractive, she told me without provocation that she wanted to start a PhD in Biochemistry. Now, I know you are thinking "and?", but there is a reason for my being baffled. This was a girl of about 21 years old, who had studied endlessly throughout second level and had just completed a Bachelors Degree...she never lost focus. She went on to tell me that she has always wanted a career in academia, since she was 15. She said she was the youngest of 5, all of her brothers and sisters had been through University under the guidance of one parent. Now, while the achievement of this girl is in itself remarkable and incredibly admirable, what stuck me more was thinking afterwards "how was it for her mother?". Can you imagine being a single mother of 5, thats right, FIVE children? Getting up every morning, going to work. Then, coming home to cook your kids dinner and going back out to do a few more hours work whenever you can to earn a few quid to make Christmas or a birthday that little bit more special for your children.
This girl obviously get her 'routinism' and drive from her mother. She will undoubtedly go on to be amongst the best in her field of work.
A few days ago, I met the same girl again. she told me that she had just recieved a letter of acceptance from the University and was about to begin her PhD in September. They told her that she was going to recieve funding of €32,000 per year for three years and on top of that, her expenses e.g. accomodation and other living costs, would be covered. So basically, she would be getting paid €32k per year to study. However, her eyes were somewhat pinkish and watered. And she didn't seem to be too pleased with her accomplishment. She went on to say that her mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer that morning just minutes before she heard the news about her daughters PhD acceptance.
What does one conclude when hearing a something like this? If we as humans have a purpose on this little planet of ours, IT can't be simply to work all of your life scraping by to make sure your kids have can do the same. While it is indeed crucial that we raise our children to be stand up individuals and hope that they have IT better than we did; that can't be IT? There must be...should be, a point in our lives when we can stop and look back at all the hard work we have done and say "now is MY time to enjoy IT". There must be a moment when we pat ourselves on the back and congratulate ourselves on a job well done. Otherwise, what's the point? I am aware that this sounds extremely existential and very cynical, but I for one would not be satisfied with life if I had picked in the mine only to find a steel wall at the end. Some might say "that's life","the 'Lord' works in mysterious ways or even "Lifes a bitch". If life is a bitch, it should be adherent and us the dominators. We can't just let it pass us by and end it in regret.
I think about these things, and it reminds me of Jack Kerouac's book, "On The Road". He travels all over the United States with his friend Neal Cassady, living life to the fullest on a pocket full of lint and a head full of notions of experience. Not too long after the success of the book made him an icon, he succumb to alcoholism and eventually died from it. While many theorise that it was people getting his 'message' wrong, I believe that it was his anger of never truly experiencing IT. He had spoken about IT throughout the book and tell us that IT is out there and we have to grab IT by the horns and wrestle it to the ground and make IT ours. "We can't go any further. There is no more land", I would argue with this and say "Sure, there is no more land...let's get a boat and row to IT". I would hope that Kerouac would answer in the famous words uttered by the famous drug baron Howard Marks in his follow up book "Senor Nice", "Sure...I'll go to Panama".

For now,

Steve B