The berating rumble of trolley wheels being towed mindlessly across the airport terminal floor interrupted my morning daydream. I wasn’t wallowing like I used to, rather reminiscing as my freshly brewed coffee cooled to taste.
The man towing the trolley laden with discarded cardboard continued to thread his way through the deepening crowd of moving travellers, the rumble of the cart following dutifully. It seemed like his mind was miles away from his task at hand, eyes glazed over reliving some distant memory or wondering about some future event.
He was the poster boy for so many of us these days. Going about our daily routine on automatic, oblivious of the moment. There is so much written about people living in the past or with deepened anxiety about future events yet to unfold. Everyone has a story which dictates, sometimes unconsciously, how long we remain out of the present, detached from the life we are actually supposed to be living.
Even me in my morning daydream had fallen “victim” to the same. If it had not been for the semi-comatose cardboard guy, I would have remained “asleep” in the moment, unaware of life going on around me.
It’s interesting to think about real people in their real lives and wonder what the “moment” is to them. How much of that they will actually live in the course of their day. Or does the runaway train of our mind capture and steal away most of that precious commodity we call time?