As a child, I was told stories of heroes, unjustly accused outsiders, who saw the evil for what it was and launched all their energies against it. We, the non-privileged watched as our hero battled the wrong that had been visited upon us and, against all odds, came through. Or, depending on the level of saccharine, fell short – heroically. Endings are written before we ever truly get started.
How far do we travel in our lives? Most of us are not nomadic and our lives are dictated by the demands of work. We may travel in order to get to that work whilst saving up to travel away from it when holidays allow. But how far do we really journey and what do we gain from it? Perhaps we are tethered by our commitments and perhaps we are pinioned from birth, given a stretch of rope ‘to each accordingly’ and set free. Our freedom will depend upon the length of the rope with some of us forever going round and round in circles that may probably decrease with time.
Jean Jacques Rousseau was fond of observing that men were born free yet everywhere they were in chains. It is my belief that the chains are the ones given to us as birth, the ones that appear invisible at first before they shackle our need to wander. It is only with the recognition of these fetters that we accept of reject the conditions of our subsequent endeavours. Apart from an unthinking submission to the way we are expected to conduct ourselves in this wordly existence, it is money that determines the extent of our dreams. And I’m not getting all philosophical here. Money is a great liberator. It is a pain reliever and an enabler. Or should I say that it is what can be purchased with money?
My wife and I are educators. We teach people how to learn about and then succeed in passing examinations about a variety of important subjects. Our three daughters have all benefited from this and should now be able to climb into jobs (careers for the better educated) that will enable them to utilise their educations to the full. Yet there is a problem. In order to progress further into their chosen fields, they require money – and we haven’t got it. Therefore, no matter how hard they studied, no matter how much they achieved, regardless of how many times they prove themselves, the careers that they wish for are always going to be out of their reach. If I had a caged bird, I could probably guess why it sings.
Life is like a Grandmother with eggs. It sucks.
My wife is a hero and she deserves to triumph. She does not carry a sword or bow and arrows but she has been battling away for such a long time that I think that it is about time for some long ago script writer to pen her the ending that reads,
And the evil one died and all was well with the world.