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Today I decided to put the word “deadline”out of my vocabulary. I have the impression that its only existance leads us, human being, to a slow, expected dead. We live from deadline to deadline, trying to stay between their lines, trying to be the most of how we think the world wants us to be. In fact, we don’t really know how the world wants us to be. We lost contract with the world long ago, when we formed the society, this way of people of living between other people under some rule that prevent them from getting in conflict. We don’t know how the world looks like as a whole anymore, because we’ve created a world only for people, in which people observe animals and say they are like this or like that, in which people observe themselves and say they’ve become like this or like that. And deadlines…deadlines keep the whole machine going nowadays. Because they keep us from stepping outside the society how we know it. We design ourselves a world and we do everything we can to stick to it. We do laws and rules and say universal truths that won’t mean anything in a hundred years by now. Deadlines support this idea that we are a multitasking generation (just because we can do more things at a time, it doesn’t mean we feel like doing them) and we live in a century of speed and progress. We actually have now idea about how it’s the world we are living in, we fail to understand its misteries, its secrets, its fantastic, but we put our scientiest invent big words for us. And words attract reality…reality how we know it. We live in a statistically described world, imaginning that we know more then we ancestors, although we have no idea who they were and we know even less about what they knew.
Deadlines are a threat. They are meant to seem as a threat to us, but they are a threat to this world we’ve created. More concretely, they are a threat for the people that set them up, much more than for the people they are set for. Deadlines are a way of saying that “if you don’t do that by XYZ date and ABCD hour I will have problems and I am powerful enough to punish YOU formy problem and also unflexible enough not to try to find a solution together”. Deadlines are safety measures for a world we need to schedule not to become too complex for us to understand it.
I want to live my life like a tea ceremony, like a flow, ignoring time. This world it’s absurd enough to get to consider time as a resource. How can you consider as a resource something we can posses? We don’t have time, it is not ours, we can’t find it in spring like water, can’t control it as we can to “human resources” (what a strange and sadly to expression…we are resources that keep this mechanism going).
I don’t want to know how long an hour is and live by calculating how much I can produce in 60 minutes of existance. I want to measure the time spent with my friends in the number of jokes we say and the time with my loved one in the number of smiles we exchange…
It was you who made me realised that. It was you and that hospital bed I got stucked to for 8 days in my life. I got on that hospital bed, exactly because I was so well stucked in this huge mechanism. I was such a good social animal, fullfilling my duties exactly, respecting the deadlines and doing my best to do things the way people describe them as right. At the beginning, staying there, in that bed, made me panic: I couldn’t do what I had to do. And neither I could understand that in those moments what I had to do was exactly be there, with all those sick people around me, with all those people who showed me a different face of humanity. After the panic moment was over, I got angry, because I only had a few days together with you and I couldn’t be out in the streets holding your hand. I was there in that bed and I felt empty. Now when I think about it I lived some of my most profound moments in that bed, there were some moments I could see everything clearly, without ambition, without any plans, because my life did not depend only on what I do with it. It was for time to decide what will happen. And time passed so slowly, as if it has been finally release from the prison I had set for it in my heart. I got time to think of you and us and realise what a miracle we are, I got time to hear people, hear them in the night when they screamed because of their pain and by day when they would say encouraging words to me. I could only pass from the anger produced by not being next to you, in that world I designed for myself, to this meditative state in the moment you first told me “It will be ok.” It might sound simple, but in that moments it was the only thing that I haven’t had thought of yet. As I was staying in that bed I never thought before you said it that it might still be ok. That everything will be fine again. For me, I was completely out of my world, my schedule, my routine. It was just me and my fight untill you hugged me in that hospital bed and told me “It will be ok.” I think that it’s something we so often forget. We forget that nothing of it will matter, that if you live enough to get old what matters is not that you got a hundred, but rather if you have a hundred years of happiness behind you.
When I see you sad I wish I could say something as magical as those words were for me, I wish I could save you from that world of torrment. Those 8 days changed my life, my way of thinking of me, of us and of everything else. I don’t have any magical words for you though and that makes me a feel powerless, but I know that all your sadness, all that anguish is part of a search, of something you have to discover. And all I can ask it’s the privilege of being next to you in that adventure.