because when we dwell, well.. thats when we all go 'emo', isnt it?
its a rare saturday to myself. the past week has been fine; just been thinking about what's important in life, thinking about how it seems im at a stage where friends start to drop out of my life; not intentionally perhaps, for most, but all these losses just drift into being. the absence becomes a tangible thing. you know how it goes. we all get busy.
more than anything else, time is an investment. its deliberate, and its risky. because it extracts so much from you. because you risk being vulnerable letting people in, you risk being spent. its a commodity; where resources placed in one area means an opportunity loss in another priority. sometimes it reaps returns, sometimes. but not always.
how did we get to be so busy? i'm inclined to think - busyness comes with speed.
just picture this. we are alive in abraham's time. every meeting is arranged months before, by sending a messenger, bearing gifts laden on camels. the day has come. packing up our cloths and bags, we tie up the gifts and secure the saddling cloth on the camels' backs. say our goodbye. we travel on camel and by foot, with the warm desert air blowing up curls of sand beneath our feet. it is silent, all we hear is the light, rhythmic crust of camel hooves on sand. ccch cchh cch cchh. the sky begins to darken, and we look for a safe node to construct our temporary shelter for the night. resting on his back, with his hands cradling his head, he looks up into the darkness of the land, faintly lit by distant stars. nothing breaks the hush that hangs heavily, presses in closely, throughout the darkness. nothing approaches, except the lulling effect of sleep.
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i'm tempted to continue the narrative; but the point is clear. its hard to be busy when the limiting speed does not allow you to be. when meeting a friend spans days and nights of travel. when job's comforters waited with him 7 whole days, without saying a single word; the prolonged silence of grief.
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its 8am. the alarm goes off in a screeching high-pitch. you groan in your sleep and pull the blanket over your ears. your door starts knocking, 'wake up!! you'll be late!' the light flashes on, uncomfortably alien. glaring. aaurgh. just five minutes more. just outside your window, the hum of a car's engine, waiting for its passenger. the click of the door opening and the bang of its closure. you shuffle out of bed and gasp at the time. grabbing your pile of clothes, you get dressed and leave the house in a rush, refusing breakfast. the shuffle of the dense morning crowd, the packing of oneself into the multitude of the train. the electronic tones signalling the approach of the train, the voice that greets all commuters in polite english, chinese, tamil and malay. please keep behind the yellow line. the grate of trains grinding to a halt. excuse me, excuse me. get out of my way! irritated tsks. the heavy mix of scents; perfume, hair wax, oils, someone's charkwayteow breakfast, more shuffling. phone calls, more electronic tones from handphone games, flipping of the newspaper. cars horning, sharp clogging clicks of high heels on tiled floors. first call of the morning. whirr of the photocopy machine. boss drops a stack of files on your desk. the start up sounds of your desktop. bleeping sounds from your online messenger. flood of emails, again. lunch appointment. filing. meeting to be arranged. calls for rescheduling. colleagues laughing in the pantry. come on now, i need that document! wheres that stupid stapler? who's got it? i thought i left it there. no, it's not! come on guys, lets try to be more organized. who left this here?? general buzz of annoyance. efficiency thwarted. just a typical routine morning in a typical week of an ordinary month.
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so what's your morning like?
so what's important?
