Last week I watched “The last Samurai” late at night in a house full of sleeping boys. Writing that makes me think that probably brings my job into the top-ten of most wanted jobs in the world, getting payed for watching TV. But believe me kids, however handsome Tom Cruise is, there are better jobs out there!
Sorry, I got sidetracked. What I wanted to say was about the film. Because in this beautiful film, even if they all die in the end (I’m sure that was not a giveaway because it can’t be many more than me who are born before year 2000 who have not seen that film, and if there are, I’m sorry, but it’s kind of obvious that is gonna happen just reading the title of the film), but even if it’s sad, it is kind of not, because they die …believing in something. They die for something, for their honor, culture and belief. And instead of getting sad, I strangely enough got kind of, jealous. At both Tom cruise who got to hang out with the samurais and learn how to fight with a stick, but also at the leader and his men who got to die in a battle they’d chosen to fight.
Speaking to a colleague from Iran, and listening to her fighting for woman’s rights as a 15-year old in her home country, taking her veil off and risking to be raped or even killed for what she believed in, filled me with the same mixed feeling of relief of being free, but also an envy, because she had something, bigger than her little self, to fight for. And please don’t misunderstand me, what is happening down there I don’t wish upon anyone. But having none, except my brain ghosts to fight and having so much time just to care about just me, and not even having to chop wood to keep warm – it just isn’t how I come alive.
Having to work – just for money, seems ridiculous to me. I want to work for something I believe in, payed or not. I don’t want to work so that I can get a comfortable life. I want to work for freedom, love and life to spring forth. Call me hippie or old fashion, but capitalism just doesn’t thrill me. I stuff my earned money in my mattress, and on a good day, try to give them away.
Lately I’ve kind of stagnated, paralyzed by all the roads to take and the fear of being sucked into the wrong track I’ve just ended up pulling my duvet over my head, and sleep long after my alarm has gone off. Not a winning strategy, but sometimes necessary reflecting in the process of finding out if that thing driving is fear or faith – and I know only one which is good enough for me.
So if I can’t find my way to a desolate village in Asia where there are still living samurais who don’t kill me, but let me fight with them (wonder if they have those fighting costumes in xs…)
….what should I do?