the paradox of our age

This year has been a year of much pondering. In particular my place in the world itself and within the lives of those who orbit around me. What I’ve perceived is that I have no place; in both the world and with my friends.

If 2015 has taught me anything, it’s that I am very much alone and that this is a burden I may carry with me until my last breath.

image via pinterest

Am I content with this?

Absolutely not. The reality of it is frightening given my current situation. I have no home, no future, no friends. To contemplate another godforsaken eighty years wandering this earth solo is discouraging.

At times I wonder if I belong here, or even exist. I’ve long suspected that I was not meant for this life or where my being was placed, but what if I was born in the wrong generation? It would clarify why only seniors seem to notice me, how I am seemingly imperceptible to anyone under the age of seventy.

We have bigger houses but smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgement. More experts, but more problems. More medicines, but less healthiness. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet out new neighbor. We built more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but less communication. We have become long on quantity but short on quality. These are times of fast foods but slow digestion. Tall man but short character. Steep profits, but shallow relationships. It’s a time when there is much in the window but nothing in the room.

-The Dali Lama

The last few months I’ve found myself yearning for a nostalgic time, even imagining a life sans technology and basic hygiene. And it appeals to me greatly.

Going back to a time where living to survive had literal, prolific meaning. You had little yet oh so much. People talked, face to face. Children played with other children and family was worth its weight in gold. Being creative and imaginative to pass the time was a given and I can’t help but speculate if they ever felt bored? How could they will vibrant green pastures and abundant canopies sashaying in the night sky.



One thought on “the paradox of our age

  1. I was raised in an era without social media technology… it was a pretty fun time. We played outside often, used our imagination, saw and talked to our friends.

    The more social we become, the more closed off we seem to get.. I too long for a simpler time and yet I love social media…

    By the way I’m not 70 and I think you are pretty great . I like how we have become friendly xox ♡

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