We cling to life. As humans, we cherish it more than anything. Faced with death, we will do almost anything to get a few minutes, or even seconds, of extra life. But do we take time to examine what life really means?
A good 90% of our lives is based on routine, or habit. We get up at a certain time, eat breakfast after washing and other ablutions. For the largest part of our lives, we then set off to work, in jobs that most of us would rather not do. Mostly, we make more money for people who already have enough. They in turn make even more money, for people who will never need any more, but just like to know that it is there. A small percentage of the working population do some good. They work in fields that help others, generally for much lower pay and expectations. But they do it anyway.
Most people have children. Some do this to continue their line, others because they are too stupid to know better. A few even do it to avoid work, and to be able to enjoy their leisure time, courtesy of the benefits available. But they are few and far between. Most people struggle. They struggle to learn, to fit in, to raise families, and to earn enough to provide for them. They struggle with jobs that are beneath them, on salaries that barely meet their needs. They try to relate to family, to siblings, even to their own children, in a world that constantly fails to live up to their expectations. Most times they fail, falling at every hurdle.
We live in societies that make rules, demands, codes to live by. We often don’t understand them, but we do our best to comply. We observe the rich getting richer, their children reaping the benefits. Then we accept that as ‘the way things are.’ Lives spent working hard, doing our best, and playing the game. Avoiding criminality where we can, trying to do the decent thing, and live a quiet family life. When nothing improves, and things just get harder, and more difficult, we often blame ourselves for lack of drive, or enthusiasm. Perhaps have another child, see if that gives us something to aim for. More fodder for the deteriorating education system, someone else to work for a minimum wage, no contract hours job, in years to come.
Life is hard, but we rarely face that fact. After working all your life, you are derided as a pensioner: sidelined, of no consequence. Before you even start out on the road of work, you have mountains to climb to gain acceptance. Once employed, you are grateful to be little more than a cog in a wheel, providing services for the elite that don’t even really need them. In short, there is no golden age. Life remains the same as you grow. A struggle, rarely a joy, and something you never asked your parents for in the first place.
The truth is, like it or not, life is overrated. So why do we love it so much?