This Vicarious Life

A friend of mine (author/publisher) recently said that she wanted to be ‘eyeballs deep into something that makes her desperate, that wakes her up at night,– that makes it impossible for her to waste three hours on old episodes of X television show…’  

And after I read her post I couldn’t help thinking about just how right she was, and how, nowadays, we’re all a little (okay maybe a lot) guilty of living an overly vicarious life through the experiences and activities (and multiple Instagram posts) of others (like those horrible creatures who are currently barefoot and scantily clad, paddle boarding, while smelling a lot like coconut-scented sunscreen, in the mid-day sun, on a tropical beach surrounded by palm trees, while we are snowed-under after a freak Spring snowstorm that hasn’t relented for two days).


Or maybe not…

The Cambridge Dictionary states the meaning as:

Vi-car-i-ous adjective [before noun] UK  /vɪˈkeə.ri.əs/ US  /vɪˈker.i.əs/

experienced as a result of watchinglistening to, or reading about the activities of other peoplerather than by doing the activities yourself.

E.g. she took a vicarious pleasure in her friend’s achievements.

So, I ask you now: how many posts or videos or photographs or gifs or tweets, from other people doing other things, elsewhere, have you watched or listened to today? Yesterday? The day before that? How many hours have you spent consuming the lives and experiences of others? How many minutes have you wasted by not living your own experiences while passively experiencing the life and times of someone else?

Isn’t it time to get up, go out, step forth and feel the sharp tingle of those snowflakes on your face, listen to the sounds of the wind whistling through the trees, hear the call of the Bluejay as he sings to his mate; see the wintry-blue colour of the sky, feel your heart pumping as you whip down the hillside, surfing your own life rather than the lives of others?

Consider for one moment, he who lives in that tropical paradise, who has closed himself into a dark, cool room, protected from the beating, relentless heat; and is perusing the Internet, watching videos and photographs of rosy-cheeked Canadians, in their warm, down-filled snowsuits, playing outdoors, smiling, laughing, and rolling in that magnificent powder, which looks, and probably tastes, exactly like icing sugar.

Oh to be them, he thinks. Oh to experience that life…

Image result for images of people playing in winter season


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