Thief of Time

Today I came home to find a Christmas letter addressed to my family sitting on our kitchen bench. This endless essay of self indulgence finds its way to our doorstep at the conclusion of each year from the same group of old family friends. This year I did actually take the time to read it and learn what our old friends had been up to in the year that was. As per usual, the letter was three pages worth of "look how amazing our lives are!... so what life goals did you achieve this year?" However, as sickeningly sweet and self obsessed as it may have been, it did make me re-think a few things. By the time i reached the end of the letter, I came to some pretty ugly realisations. These old friends have spent the last twelve months seeing the world, finding new places and people, and achieving REAL life dreams. I for one have spent most of my waking hours either working at a job that stresses me beyond comprehension, or pissing my money away on, well... piss! Others have created cherished memories while I have snaked my way through a drug induced haze. Don't get me wrong, I am no junky, and my level of drinking certainly doesn't hold a candle to that of my peers, but it's enough to keep me unproductive.

At this point I had a second realisation that slightly contradicts the first. When things go wrong in my life or I find myself in a position I'm not happy with, I always look for a scapegoat. Consistent intoxication is always an easy target. But if I were to really look deep within myself and ask what was really at the core of the problem, the answer would be quite different. Partying makes me unproductive... but only for the duration of the party, and of course the hangover. The straight fact is, sometimes I find myself in an undesirable place, and the reason I'm there is simply because I didn't make the right choices. These wrong turns could be anything from not taking risks, to drinking too much over a set period, or even the simple devil known as laziness. My need to find a point of blame results in an inability to recognise the real problem. The trap here is that these "points of blame" make me feel like I am actually addressing the problem. I puff out my chest, hold my head high, and announce my self realisations to the world convincing my friends and myself that I am making real change when I haven't even found out what really went wrong. 

I am slowly beginning to learn that life is not waiting for me.