When was the last time you looked up at the stars? I am not talking about a quick glance, but really spending the time to soak it all in; the Southern Cross, the Caucepan, the Big Dipper, Alpha Centauri and the stars beyond. I know, it can be an effort to crane your neck upwards, holding it stretched until it hurts. So, chances are it may have been a while between star gazing expeditions. As a young boy, I was fascinated by space. I loved the audacious documentaries discussing the the solar system, the universe, the big bang, supernovas and black holes. Truth be told, I still am fascinated by all these things, but I am not in control of the TV anymore. Growing up, I had glow in the dark stars, moons and planets glued meticulously to my ceiling. I even wore clothing that depicted scenes from space (no I am not talking those ridiculous “Galaxy” exercise pants which bizarrely became a fashion statement a few years ago). My favourite item of clothing, black and gold satin boxer shorts, covered, with iconic images of all the planets from our solar system (yes Uranus was located on my ass).
Fashion statements
These space boxers were the ones you would likely see hanging out the back of my shorts as I paraded around suburbia. Do not ask me why, but in those simpler times that was the look. Boxers pulled high, pants hanging down to your ankles and shoes with so much cushioning you could have mistaken them for pillows. Frankly I am surprised I survived that period of adolescence – before you ask, of course I still had glow in the dark planets on my ceiling, I was afraid of the dark. Perhaps that is why I found black holes to be the most fascinating phenomena in the universe. A tear in the space-time continuum, the laws of physics start to break down in a place where even light could not escape. If you venture too close to the event horizon, spaghettification starts to happen, you approach the singularity and become lost to this universe as we know it. On a side note, this story is akin to a black hole, stringing you along, stealing your time. As you stand on the precipice, make haste and eject before it’s too late. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
Microverse to universe
For a time, I was scared we would all be swallowed by a supermassive black hole. That life as we know it would cease to exist. And so, with fascination and trepidation, I would look to the sky. That was then. Now, I forget to look. It is easy to make excuses not to look. If you live in the city, light pollution is a visual impairment, a false curtain on the world, blurring out what is right in front of us (albeit far away). There’s the inevitable question, why would I bother looking at the sky? I have so much in front of me to reflect on and so much behind me to worry about; I simply do not have the time to be concerned with what is above me. Occasionally, it pays to look up. It’s both a humbling and exciting experience, providing you look beyond what you see. Too often we find ourselves stuck. In focusing on the minute, we become self-absorbed and we forget we are part of a bigger picture. If we want to spend time in the past, then all we need to do is look up at the sky. The light we see, is the past beaming down on us. It is also our future, where we are headed and what will more than likely become of us. Like the stars we may shine bright for a while, but slowly we drift, we flicker, we age.
Aging gracefully
Speaking of aging, I have noticed recently that my eyesight is starting to fade. Not in the sense that I am becoming blind, but in my days as a spreadsheet warrior, I am finding myself squinting and sitting closer to the computer screen than ever before. My eyes get tired. I should get them checked, hesitate because I am scared. Scared of what I would need to accept. Aging. I remember turning 21, cutting the cake and smiling in front of the whole family who were there to celebrate. Shortly after, my uncle leans in, whispering in my ear, “Mark you wanker, you’ll be 30 before you know it, enjoy living”. In what feels like a click of the fingers, 30 happened and passed. I had dreams at 21. Dreams I wanted to achieve by 30. How successful was I? If you asked me at 21 what success looked like, it was retirement, wealth, a big house on the coast and driving an Aston Martin. To a degree, that is success, I suppose. But reflecting, how fulfilled would I have been? If I had I achieved all of those things, would it have made me a better person than I am today? A richer person yes, but better? I am not so sure.
What is success anyway?
A decade has gone by and I am struggling to understand what success means to me now. Money, ok, but it is not what drives me. Fulfilment, peace, tranquillity? Rhetorical questions. These are all noble pursuits, but I am still defining success. How about doing what you love? Ah yes, that’s when the money question rears its head. If you cannot tell, the aging process has made more pensive than I once was. Maybe it’s because I have started to notice (or rather my delightful wife has noticed) some grey hairs; I have aches and pains in the body for no apparent reason; I have to warm up and cool down before I exercise. Recently, I injured both calf muscles running. The ultimate old man injury. I must be careful with what I eat (well that’s been true my whole life), I learned about the FODMAP, probiotics and gut health. I have experimented with intermittent fasting through to longer three-day fasts, ask me about those sometime. Hangovers are the other tell-tale sign. Hangovers last three days and it takes me a week to rebound from the sleep deprivation usually inflicted by alcohol. Speaking of alcohol, it has become a love hate relationship. Mostly love when I think about all the delicious craft beer options available…sweet, sweet nectar.
Introverted
Apologies, I will step back on the soapbox. These are the external signs that I am aging and no longer indestructible. It is in these moments, I turn pensive, I cast my attention to my internal state of mind. How have I changed in the past ten years? Some of my mates will attest I have always been an old man, moving slowly, weighing up risks and attempting to make sense of completely unrelated circumstances. If it is possible, I think I have become calmer, I understand myself and my mind a little better (although I still surprise myself), I look for opportunities not to be busy, to sit calmly, to meditate. I have found someone who is truly a best friend. I react less. I am less frustrated. I have stopped putting weight on other people’s opinions of me, save those who mean the most to me.
External madness
Through the aging process, we must battle ourselves sometimes to prevent autopilot from kicking in. We forget to realise that we are the ones who get to decide what to think, how to act and interact. We forget it is our choice and our choice alone. Sure, external events might trigger an event or a reaction, like someone stealing the last rolls of toilet paper off the shelf, but only we choose to make it mean something, only we choose to take offence to it. Can we choose a different position? Of course, we can. We can choose any position we like. We could see the humour in it. I personally do. It’s the new decade, 2020, and we are squabbling over toilet paper. The impending Coronavirus makes me realise how human we are, we are not immortal, we are not immune. We are a connected species. We are not islands. We are a human race. This virus should be teaching us about the intricacies of human behaviour, connectedness, rather than resorting to the fight and flight modalities of our ancestors. It should also be an opportunity to see the best the human race has to offer. Sadly though, we will witness some of the worst. What to do in times like this? I say look to the sky. If anything, it will make you realise how small yet how important we really are. How in all that light and dust and stars and planets, we lived at all, well maybe we should start with that. Then we can get to cleaning up our shit.