Am I living my life on auto-pilot?

When I was a kid, all I could think of was all the cool things I'd get to do when I was a grown up.
I couldn't wait for the freedom to choose for myself!

When I left primary school and moved up into secondary school, all I could envisage was studying the sciences, history, mathematics - and emulate my heroes - Leonardo, Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler and Einstein - discover something new, exciting, World-wowing!

Off to polytechnic then with dreams greatness in academia - I'd get my degree in chemistry and physics, become a great home office pathologist like Dr keith Simpson, or Sir Bernard Spillsbury - and I'd solve the unsolvable, and bring the killer to justice.

But something around this point changed.  I failed my degree because I didn't put the effort in.  I'd lost my way.  I got a job making pizzas - and thought maybe I could join the police.  I applied about 5 times and failed each time - I started working as a civilian answering 999 calls, and began the lazy drift from one day to the next.  I no longer had any purpose.  I had under-achieved myself to mediocrity and that was where I was going to stay.  I put my life onto autopilot.

Ten years passed and I was exactly the same - no real prospects, no additional skills, nothing to look forward to, no purpose.  I bought a small one bedroom flat, and continued to drift.  Autopilot was doing just fine, thank you.

I had a blip though - made a decision and flipped autopilot off whilst I changed course.  I moved to Exeter and began working for Devon and Cornwall police taking 999 calls.  I got a promotion, extra responsibility, met a girl, got married.  Had a daughter, changed jobs and started working in IT for the NHS.

But I realise today, I've somehow snuck back onto autopilot again.  I don't ever remember flicking that switch, but it definitely got flicked!  I've been doing this job for about 13 years now, and I'm at the top of my pay scale and little or no prospects on a promotion.  My daughter is about to go into secondary school, my wife runs her own business - and I'm cruising from one day to the next with no real interaction with the present moment.  I wake up, get up, make tea, clean my teeth, get dressed - same routine every day.  I drive to work, but arrive there without really realising what happened during the 15 minute drive.  I log onto my PC, check emails, check calls, drink coffee, eat at my desk, until it's time to go home.

Another 15 minute autopilot drive home, get changed, sit on the couch, watch TV, make dinner, eat, watch TV, go to bed.  Life on autopilot!

If any of this rings a bell with you, if you see anything familiar in the routine, then, like me, you need to flick that switch and come off autopilot!  I have managed to get to 53 years old, and I can only account for half that time as being lived with meaning and purpose.

Too many of my days are lived in a haze, not paying anything very much attention, losing time, wasting time, achieving nothing - living like it doesn't matter that nothing got done yesterday or the day before because I was busy drifting along as if in a dream.  I'm acting like I have an infinite number of days at my disposal, so wasting half of them isn't a big deal - but you know what?  I don't have an magical supply of days that'll go on forever.  I need to wake up!  I need to pay more attention, and I need to make better use of my time.  So I'm going to rip out autopilot, and I'm getting Mindfulness installed instead.

The Turning World

Hello!

It's a chilly May 5th here in Cornwall - we have had a mixture of warm sunny days and windy chill days lately - not quite summer yet, but the promise is just around the corner.
I last wrote this back in February - I was recovering from my radiotherapy then, so my desire to write was quite low.  I am now in remission, slowly getting my voice back to normal, and not quite so tired every day, so here I am!

I have been thinking about how time passes - the turning of the planet - how a day starts, opens up as you pass through it, and closes down at night.  The days become weeks, and for me it's been a pathway - walking along from one test, appointment, consultation, procedure - to the next.  I started the journey over a year ago, and I am finally realising that my path is no longer dictated by these mile markers any more.  Sure I still have appointments, but they're not the centre of the universe any more.

So the weeks and months pass by, each segment filled with tasks completed, new things to do, forms to submit, reviews to attend, and always, always, there's the future to contemplate.  Where will it take me?  What do I need to do now to make the journey easier?  More successful?  What are the likely outcomes?

As I sit here, writing this, I am aware that the world has turned a bit more - another 5 degrees through it's circle of time - another few thousand miles along it's seasonal trip around the Sun, and I am warmed by the knowledge that my life is unfolding as it should.   I am happy.

Busy

I've been very busy. Oh yes, I have.

I've filled my days with chores and work, jobs that have needed doing but I've never had the time.

Jobs that need doing before winter sets in, before the family get home, before the light fades.

Get up and straight into the action, rush here, grab that, dash off, fill my hours with 60 minutes of busy.

But I'm sat here now thinking of all the stuff I've missed today. I almost missed coffee with my wife at lunchtime because I was so busy. I almost missed chatting with my daughter on the way home from school because I was too busy thinking about cooking tea when I got in. I missed the sunset because I was too busy doing something else.

Do you know - it's nearly October and I can only account for about three months! All the rest of this year has been swept away in a blur of busy. That's time I'll never get back!

So, take a tip from me - make sure your not so busy that you miss your life passing by. Take a few moments every now and then during the day to pause, take a breath and take stock of what's going on. "Be present in the moment." as Zen Buddhists say.