Wednesday 1st February
All our lives we are on a treadmill, methodically placing one foot in from of the other and slowly turning the wheel round and round; it moves so slowly that we don’t even notice passing GO or collecting £200. From childhood into old age we plod on and on, most of us are so used to the treadmill that we don’t even notice – sometimes in fact we are so mindless that our feet positively skip. The days are repetitious; you wake and fumble to the loo and pee, make a cup of tea, then a poo and cleaning of teeth, shave and shower and another cup of tea. Maybe there are dogs or cats to be fed or a partner to ask if they slept well. Then onto the day itself, tread-away young hearts – you won’t get very far. Sometimes the treadmill changes, we even delude ourselves that we are in charge of the treadmill, but try stepping off and you will be thrown to the ground.
Some of us achieve a state of wealth that we may live in Hotels, no more beds to make or meals to cook, but even indolence is a treadmill – maybe the hardest to tread of all.
And this is the state of being a member of the human race, we are all engaged in keeping the treadmill turning – though exactly where it is going and if anyone is in charge of direction or speed remains a mystery. And those lucky few, vagrants or hippies or call them what you will, who manage to slip away from the treadmill – do you really think they have escaped at all? As a child I sometimes dreamed of being a hermit, living alone on an island away from all people, but maybe even island existence is a treadmill too.
But hey ho, don’t be glum– let’s all haul away together boys. Tread softly now or we might wake our neighbours as they sleep walk through their days, each and every one on their own little treadmills….
Tomorrow is another day, another treadmill maybe. perhaps this one will lead us where we think we want to go; we can dream anyway.