We’re bombarded, or rather we bombard ourselves by looking, looking, looking, at the media. We see the world is a dark and difficult place, where people don’t seem to care any more. They would rather argue, fight, bemoan, hate, criticise, condemn, fear, regret, feel helpless. The alternative to get involved in petty distractions, avarice and the hypnotic foolishness that seems to represent entertainment.
The addictions are those repeated small lever pressing hits of buzz, of satisfaction, that like any ‘good’ addiction don’t quite provide the satisfaction needed to stop doing it, as we sit, transfixed, before screens which promise us the world and deliver a dystopian one where nothing is quite as it seems. But what if we walked away? What if we went back to lives where reality was what we actually experienced? What would our lives be like if we returned to our bodies and accepted the only reality was the one we could touch, taste, see, feel? It’s hard to say.
It’s not something you can undo, this opening of Pandora’s box. Now it’s all flying about the place and we can’t put it away. Even if the whole thing crashed and we no longer had that window onto the world that isn’t, we would be forever changed. Or would we? I wonder how long it would take for us to re-find our smaller reality that connects us to the earth, yet curiously also to mankind, to nature, to each other. That smallness that is infinite, rather than an illusion of influence and meaningfulness that isn’t. Or maybe it’s still there, and we’ve become overwhelmed by the sea of so called information, drama and manipulations we can’t see the wood for the trees.
If I look at the life I have it bears little resemblance to the one I’m told I have. It’s so easy to become entangled in the whirling mists of media hype and agenda’s, when actually, really, what has changed? Do I care any less? Suffer any more? No. I am as big and small as I ever have been.