ikigai

reason for being

Warmup (love)

He wasn’t always sure but at this time of night it all came back in a wash of warmth as his wife scooted in behind him. Reminding him of why he was here. The day’s discontents floated just out reach. He was never certain when but at some point sleep would take hold and after untold dreams, he would wake by her side again. The new start of the day always took him by surprise as he rose and performed his family dance without much thought for his selfish needs. 

Wake the child with a smile, and hurry her along her way.

Breakfast was quick, some bran flakes in whole milk, and then keys, glasses, wallet, it was out the door and down the hall to the garage to start the car. All by rote. 

Ikigai

What do I want to do? Be doing. Become. Be.

The question weighed heavily upon him his entire life. There was never a time that he could remember that he wasn’t sitting, dreaming of someday.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” They would say. The correct answer was invariably something close to the adult’s own heart. His answer failed to engage about as often. He quickly learned how to please the one in front of him, and conjure up a story sure to delight before changing it in the next situation with different people. 

“Perhaps it was his destiny to be everything to everyone?”, he would wonder and the worry would take over that he had no real idea how to get there much less have any energy left over for his own growth.

And so it went, year after year. Jobs, marriage, kids, dog, cat they all appeared in his life at the appropriate times, but still he was who he was with, and he played the part. 

Still a part of him dreamed. Someday he would have time for himself. Space to stretch out and challenge his talents into a palpable thing. A sword and shield to protect his insides from the needs of others. A trusty steed to carry him off to the place where he could be himself, if he could even remember who that was.

Instead that dream felt like nothing more than the carrot. A useful handle to roughly push him around.

Continuous Access

It’s amazing really. I had to tape off the radio using a self-made aux cable and two radios, one with a tape recorder, of course, start the tape promptly at midnight, flip it over forty-five minutes later and tape the last part of the show on Sunday nights. All to share with my friends during the week, these kids can do the equivalent in seconds with a text. 

It’s hard to grasp what it must be like with instant access to essentially everything ever created. No waiting, no babysitting, just go. To find yourself back in my day it was all word of mouth, an advertisement, a poor photocopy of a copy that someone, somewhere thought was a little clever and then shared around at family gatherings, folded and unfolded, wrinkled and batter and ready to delight each new group of friends and then copied again. 

Astounding things were hard to find and only rewarded the stalwart treasure hunter. Into this world I was born, a collector of rare facts, and unbelievable bits of information. I was the answer guy. Everyone knew at least one. The person they would go to when life dealt in puzzles and nothing made sense.

Now within ten minutes or sometimes less the answers seem to almost find me before they’re asked. And still there are those that look away as if to see the truth laid bare would be to expose their own perceived weaknesses. Lay bare the belly of the dragon that keeps the wrong people at bay. 

Amongst these people the constant fear of being left behind closes their eyes to the constant fire of humanity, burning seemingly out of control. 

In a world where everything is available, they chose nothing. A series of syllables that seem like they should go together but ultimately are just babble of children lost in the sea of information.