I’m back to my usual dilemma today. Do I continue to live in my beloved post-modern trash pile of a city or gain some inner calm by moving out into what’s left of the country? Would I miss the speed of global city living where there is no night or would I settle into a slower, more shadowy, world?
This seems to be a question that people are asking themselves with increasing urgency these days as we descend further into the ethical abyss. On the one hand I’d like to stay, after all it’s quite enlivening to be part of what is essentially a giant reality TV show. However, as I get older I yearn for something that’s more spiritual. There are clearly places where you can find this in cities – especially old cities – and you can obviously escape altogether by descending into the labyrinth of virtual worlds that are so popular with people these days.
Generally I want to stay. But every so often I bend down to smell a tiny patch of pre-colour- and pre-smell-enhanced grass and I am instantly transported back to my parents’ garden in the country in 2007. Perhaps that’s it. The past and the future really do love (sic) alongside each other in some kind of parallel universe. It is possible to transport yourself backwards or forwards in time by moving between metropolis and wilderness, or by just stopping and stooping to observe the passage of time in a grow-bag.
BTW, I’ve finally worked out what old people like myself are looking at when they sit on a SoftSeat™ at the beach and look out to sea. It’s their own mortality.