Waiting for the Lift

At the company I work for we have these lifts, an obscure fact I know and not as uncommon as one would think in the corporate environments of today. Side note: to our pseudo-American counterparts a lift is an elevator and visa versa, honestly (!) learn to spell, learn to read, learn to speak! Just learn. You are not the be-all and end-all of civilization – that would in fact be the Chinese. Have we not been inundated with enough westernized culture? Culture, pppfff! If that’s what you can really call it.

Anyway, these lifts… you can spend the whole day waiting for these lifts. And one day while waiting for said lift to arrive, it made me think. The situation I found myself in could be transpired into everyday life. If you think about it, isn’t that all we do? We wait for lifts. Obviously not literally, that would just be stupid, the “lift” referred to in this instance would be the emotional hindrance of life, the up and down feelings of elation, euphoria, angst, depression.

We’re all searching for our place in life, preferably one that is fulfilled. We just want to be happy. But no one is just happy all of the time. 12% of everything is amazing… the rest is crap. We all get into the lift expecting to go up, but we don’t always. Is it a conscious decision? Can we wake up in the morning and say to ourselves: “I’m going to be happy today, I’m going to go up?” Yes, it may work for the first 5 minutes of your day, but there are always going to be external factors that influence your emotions. Traffic, work, life. Yeah life! It’s such a huge impact on living.

Furthermore to my analogy of corporate living, we can take the building structure into consideration, starting off at the basement level. This inner dwelling of darkness, depression and despair. We’ve all been down to the basement. Moving up to the penthouse, where we all dream of being. In our building’s case, the 4th floor is utopia. An oasis of achievement, flashy canteen, games room. Satisfaction. Ah! Ofcourse if we were to have a Haiti freak earthquake it would completely crumble this analogy. Excuse the pun – don’t be hating the Haitians.

And me, well I’m stuck on the first floor at the moment, waiting for the lift. But as far as I am concerned, life is a terminal illness and we’re all born to die.