Tuesday 06 Dec 2016

Where We Truely Live
M Alan Roberts

The beating of bongos on a breezed beach, the light of a fire dancing in the dark, the smell of jerk chicken and fresh-caught fish grilling on an open rack and the time to enjoy it all combine to take me away into an alternate realm. Far away from the busyness and business of the city in which I work, I am afforded such periods of tranquil luxury during my tropical getaway.

Dark skinned natives smile widely at me as they offer me refreshments and local fare. Bikini-clad beauties abound, and they actually seem to like me. They are so unlike the women of the states. They are genuinely interested in my well being. They enjoy seeing me happy. About to become sleepy, and not wanting to yet, I stand, stretch and begin a slow walk along the beach's edge. Each step taken is a step towards freedom - towards never returning to the city.

Fish jump and boats sit lazily on the water not far from me, both soaking in the serenity that is so pervasive here. It seems as though the entire rest of the world is insane. Why does everyone live there instead of here? Knowing the selfish and greedy nature of the masses, I am subtly shocked to see this paradise not flooded with them. It seems to me that they would attack places such as this and ruin them as well. I draw up the beginnings of my own plan to leave them and stay here for the rest on my life. Does it even make any sense to do otherwise?

White sand crunches up between my toes with each step taken and the moonlight guides my small journey. Behind me, I can still hear the sounds of drums and singing, knowing that the people still dance in blissful merriment without looking back. I know this because that is what they do here every night. They sing, dance, play music, drink, eat, laugh and play until the early morning hours. They arise refreshed and take care of their homes, tend to their limited business dealings of the day and magically find themselves back in this place of livelihood each evening to welcome the sunset again - sunsets that never fail to deliver the epitome of bright orange mystery.

My spirit is calmed and my motivation soars. I am reminded that I too can enjoy my life - the way that we are meant to. I do not have to continue to be a slave to corrupt governments and thankless corporations. I can determine my own direction! I can dictate my own fate! I simply have to take the initiative to do so. I only need step outside of what I erroneously have identified as my comfort zone. What comfort is there? There is none in reality.

Yes! I will leave the city. I will move my life and my meager possessions here to this exotic beach and become one with these friendly, generous people. I will contribute to them as they do to me - an ecosystem of helpfulness and sharing. The resources and bounties of nature are shared by all equally. There is no ownership, greed, adversity or worry. Stress does not live here; it is shunned by all. Life here, on the beach, is simplistically fulfilling. It is whole and true. I lay down in the cooled sand to gaze at the stars and continue my dreams of a peaceful destiny.

"Roberts! Are you sleeping again? Wake up! We are not paying you to doze here. This is your job. Perform it or be replaced!"

Again, my duty has ruined my wishes. It's difficult to not just walk out and go in search of that beautiful beach. It's so difficult to just wake up sometimes and come here again for another day of labor. I know that as long as I continue to dedicate my time and efforts here, I will never find my dreams. Hell, I'll be lucky if the company doesn't go under and leave me with nothing except bad memories and failing health. I know inside myself that this is not my destiny. There are no rewards to be gained here. Where is my beach? Where are the bikini-wearing beautiful natives? Where is my tropical beverage and my jerk chicken? I long for the white sand squishing between my toes as I walk, heavy footed, down the long hall to my next appointment for the day - some meeting to discus the optimization of company performance.

I nod blankly at the people that I pass. They return the empty acknowledgment. It seems that their eyes too are filled with a different dream as are mine. It seems that they too long for more.

M Alan Roberts is a radical thinker. He has a gimlet eye for injustice, much as did Frederich Engels, a century and a half before. Still, Roberts finds a way to write effective SEO copy. This suggests both sides of his brain, his mind, work equally well.

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