Making a cheese sandwich.

I handed my daughter a cheese sandwich the other day, and as I did so, I wondered about how it was made.  I took two slices of bread, spread butter on one side of each, sliced some cheese and put it on one of the buttered sides, and placed the other piece of bread butter side down on top.

 Job done.

But that was just my part of creating that cheese sandwich.  I still had three unanswered questions. 
Where did the bread come from?  Where did the butter come from? And where did the cheese come from?  The bread came from the supermarket, but how did it get there? By lorry, driven by Arthur, taken off the lorry by Bert and stacked on the shelf by Carl.  

But who loaded it onto the lorry?  Where was it stored before then? How did it get there?  So, we have a logistics aspect to the bread – how it moves from A to B.

Where was the bread made?  What recipe was used?  Who supplied the yeast? The salt? The water?  So we also have a multitude of other ingredients to consider, as well as their various logistics.

But ignoring all those for now, let’s concentrate on the flour that was used – where was it milled? Who milled it?  Who made the packet it’s stored in?  Who grew the grain?  

So now we have two more fundamental occupations to consider. The miller and the farmer.  Both of these people play an essential role in our bread production.  

Focussing on the farmer – did he plow his field?  With a tractor?  Who made the tractor?  Who sold it to him?  Who maintains it?  So that gives us equipment.  

Who made the lorries, the fork-lift trucks, the components of each, the tyres, engine oil, glass. Who refined the fuel?  Who drilled for the oil and where?  Who built the oven?  Who supplied the gas and electricity?  How was the electricity produced?  

The incredibly complex structure of each piece of machinery is mind-boggling, without even considering how the individual components of each machine are also produced, supplied, shipped and so on, down to where the iron ore is mined for the steel, how is it smelted and so on.

Ignoring all that, let’s go back to the farmer.  Where did he buy the grain?  Who grew it? So now you are approaching the origin of the bread – but in actual fact, you’re just entering a loop.  Where did the grain come from that grew the wheat that made the grain?  It wouldn’t be an infinite regression, but it would look at first glance like one.

How many people, then, have been involved in making our two humble slices of bread?  How many machines have been involved?  How much fuel has been consumed in its production? How many miles between growing the wheat and the bread in the supermarket?

Two slices of bread!

Now, the butter…

My daughter took the sandwich, took a big bite and with mouth full of food, mumbled “thanks Dad!” before walking off to her room to watch TV, while I stood in the kitchen, my head spinning from the hundreds, thousands of interactions and associations that occurred before those two little words.

The Damp Squib

A few months ago I decided to venture into a massive online presence, the purpose of which was to build a greater awareness for this blog.  Why?  Because (like millions of other people out there) I thought I had something worth listening to, something worth reading.

Was I jealous of teenage girl blogs that seem to have 10,000 followers?  Maybe.  Unlikely though.

I asked myself the other day - who am I writing for?  And the answer is - anyone willing to read it.  I'd love to be able to influence the world - change opinions, make it a better place by writing about the destructive nature of bullying, how we should all recycle, and how my one wish would be for an end to hatred and intolerance.

I decided then that pouring time and effort and money into promoting my words is a waste of time.
Why?  Well, my website (designed specifically to draw people into and around my social sites) has had 8 visitors in total.  Eight!  So links added to blog posts asking for visitors have achieved nothing.

My subscription to Blogarama promoted the site well, and my posts went from 10 or 12 views, to thousands - but despite getting almost 3,000 views, my last post got one +1 and no comments.
To me, it's never been about getting views or building a following - it has always been about interaction - building relationships, commenting on something, feeding back to someone, touching another life somewhere on the planet.

My expanded online presence has not worked.
Oh well, back to the drawing board!

Are We Lost?

I asked myself this question during the drive to work today.
No, I didn’t mean lost as in geographically, I mean spiritually and mentally.

I was thinking about how our ancestors lived.  Their lives seemed more structured than ours.  They rose at a certain time, ate breakfast – probably the same thing every day, and left for their work – a factory maybe, or clerking in a bank or solicitors, or on a ship, or in a warehouse, or a shop.

They would work their long day with only a little break for something to eat, and take they pay home in a small brown envelope at the end of the week.  The money would be divided up into tins – rent, food, whatever.  Once home, they would prepare a meal, discuss something – local politics, the church, school, work.  They would read a book, or sew.  They would go to bed early.

Their lives had a structure to them, and were not complicated.  It seems they knew their purpose in life.  They knew the career they were going to follow because their fathers and mothers followed that path.  They would apprentice and learn a skill, and they would employ that skill. 

If they needed to know something outside of their close circle of experience they would go to a library to research it, and questions would be asked – “why are you interested in that?  To what purpose?”  To seek more knowledge than was necessary in your day-to-day was considered a waste of time, because your time was so structured.  Your life had a clearly defined purpose.  It was what your parents did, and their parents, and those before.

Today I see us as being disparate, scattered and lost.  We no longer seem to have structure or purpose.  I get up at different times of the day, depending on what hours I’m working, or where I will be working from today.  I can eat a different breakfast every day for a week or a month, and never repeat the same meal twice.

I travel to work (or work from home), but can take time off if I feel like it.  I can stay home sick without fear of losing my job.  I can watch TV – hundreds of different channels.  I do not have tins to keep my money in.  My money is invisible – digital.  Bills paid electronically.  I no longer need to save for something – I can just buy whatever I want because my invisible money is no longer constrained by what I earn.

I no longer need a reason to find out something new.  I don’t need to go to the library.  I have a small device in my pocket that can tell me anything I want to know.  I can book a flight to almost anywhere in the world, travel there, find my way to a location via GPS or SatNav and communicate with people that do not speak my language using my smartphone.

I no longer need my mother or grandmother to teach me to cook or sew or iron – because YouTube can show me.  I no longer need to apprentice to learn a skill.  Higher education – which was once the domain of the wealthy or titled, is now open to all – and a degree, once the epitome of excellence, is now the norm.

We have expanded out of that tiny close-knit world of our ancestors so far, we no longer bear any resemblance to it.  Their values, ethics and morals have been stretched thin in our rapid expansion.  We do not respect our elders because they have nothing to teach us or give us – we no longer need their advice when Google has all the answers. 

I think we have lost our way, and I am greatly saddened by it.  I have taught my daughter to cook and sew (as my mother taught me), and I talk to her of the old ways, of the values we shun in favour of mass-produced homogeny. The ethics we’ve lost in an age of do-what-you-will, and the friendship-bonds stretched thin by Facebook and Instagram, because it takes no effort to poke or click like or share.

We are too thin – we lack any real depth.  We have become selfish in our desire for everything now!
Our pursuit of bigger, better, faster and newer now crowds out our desire for sympathy, empathy and understanding of others.  I pass people in the street and say hello and I smile.  I hold the door open for strangers.  I pick up fallen toys for children.  I talk to people’s dogs.  I clean up litter from my neighbour’s front lawn.  I offer to help complete strangers with their heavy bags.

I am trying to pull myself back in – I am trying to remember where I was before I became lost – and my smartphone can’t help me with that one!

Thank you for reading my thought on an ever-changing World!

You might also like some of the stuff on my website

https://collywobspearson.wixsite.com/mysite

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.

Buddhist Lesson

This is one of my favourite Buddhist lessons. 

Two Buddhist monks are walking back to the temple one hot, dry day when they come across an old woman beside a raging river.  She is staring at the river, which is clearly barring her way, with a look of total frustration on her face.

The younger of the two monks offers the lady assistance, so she climbs up onto his back, arms about his neck, her small bag of possessions bumping painfully against the monk’s chest as he fought the current to get her across.

On the far back, the old woman climbs down and goes off on her way without saying a word of thanks or any acknowledgment of the monk’s kindness whatsoever.

The young monk remarks to the older one how rude it was of her, how bruised he was from the bag banging against him, how tired his legs were having carried that extra weight, how hot and thirsty the exertion had made him, and so on – all the way back to the temple.  As they get to the gates the older monk, who all this time had kept silent during his companion’s complaints, turned to him and asked, “Are you still carrying that old woman on your back?”

Joke

A dog walks into  a butcher's shop holding a small wicker basket in his mouth.  He puts the basket on the floor and takes out a small piece of paper - on it is a list, 2 pork sausages, half a pork pie, one small lamb chop

The butcher takes the list, put the items into the basket.  The dog takes a small purse from the basket and sets it before the butcher, who opens it.  Inside is a £5.  The butcher gives the dog 60p change.  The dog puts the purse in the basket and off he goes.

Next day the dog comes in again, and the same thing happens.

The day after, the dog comes in again - but this time as the dog leaves with his laden basket, the butcher follows him.  The dog walks off down the street and gets to a busy main road.  He sets the basket down and pushes the pedestrian crossing button.

When the lights turn red he picks up the basket and crosses the road safely.

A few streets later he approaches a house, puts down the basket and standing up on his back legs, pushes his nose against the door bell.

An old man opens the door, sees the dog and starts to berate him.  "Stupid dog!"

The butcher runs up to the man and shouts "Stupid?  Are you kidding??  That's the most amazing dog I have ever seen!"

"Nah, if he was that amazing, he wouldn't keep forgetting his door keys"!

Questions

What mood are you in?
Relaxed, Content

What are you listening to?
System 7 live in Kyoto October 2011

Where are you right now?
Cornwall, UK

What’s on your “must do today” list?
Post the last eBay parcel

What colour would you choose to describe yourself right now?
Orange

What were you thinking about before you started this?
Do I want a pasty for lunch?

What are you planning to do later?
No plans at the moment

What’s the weather like where you are now?
Dry, cloudy, slight breeze, some sun.

Do you have a blog or diary you want to share?
https://www.my-diary.org/edit/?action=viewentry&entryid=545504118

What is filling your mind today?
How do I generate more interest in my writing?

What do you like to do to keep fit and active?
Walk the dog.