I sat in a wheelchair, alone in the middle of a shop this week whilst my wife shopped. Operation imminent, wheelchair borrowed. A strange, lonely experience until a middle aged man deliberately came over and talked to me. A sociable thing to do from an aware, affable individual. If he did nothing else that day , no matter, his action towards me was positive, meaningful, deliberate. I must have spent too long this summer just sitting, brooding, because, by heck, it didn't half set me thinking.
Some more 'What are we here for; what's it all about moments.' ( Those of a religious 'bent', please forgive me, but it's not for me. Lovely idea, this afterlife thing, but too many aspects that don't make sense to me. For instance, Saturday you die, Sunday you're sitting alongside God. (Who?) And, is my mum, died in 1953, still my mum? Is she still forty seven. And will I be able to ask Roman soldiers questions. (I was always interested in Roman soldiers at school.) And so on and so on and so on. Please, no more deep questions concerning 'The Meaning of Life'. Instead, lets just 'muse' for a while on life. (What a lovely word is 'muse.)
Stephen Hawkin. One of the cleverest men in the world, totally paralysed, able to communicate only by using a speech generating device. Presumably in his mind he has physical movement. Having said that, who am I to ''presume' for anyone!
This week 'they' reckon there will be 7 billion people on earth. 'They' reckon also from the beginning of time there has been 108 billion humans over the past 50 millenium. All beyond me but I was never any good at maths!
Saw some programme or other on Monaco, noticed some very, very rich people sitting on boats. Some of them will never work in their lives and will never have to. What is the purpose of their lives. Indeed, does life, any life have to have a purpose? A man I know does a mundane job and hates every minute; he has only twenty or so years to go. Another man I know has an equally boring job but doesn't mind doing it. Is that ok; are both men wasting their lives on earth?
Who is the very cleverest man (or Woman) in the world. Do they sit and ponder (another nice word, ponder) I wonder.
All brought on by my imminent operation. Time marches on, we are all born, we live and we die. Role on Christmas, and, as Arthur English used to say, 'Play the music, open the cage.'