Have You Got The Sense That All Is Not Well?
The reason why you are here (reading this blog) is because you know you are different. You know something that others don’t, or they're too scared to admit to.
The ship that we have decided to board to take us to our desired destination in life is not going to get us there, it's ill fated, not all of us will make it. You may well have questioned this boat’s viability as soon as you stepped on to the gang-plank or it may have only dawned on you the further that we have sailed away from port.
Not that you may have had any choice in the matter, your parents may well have bullied you into making this voyage by buying you your ticket well in advance, or society may well have reserved you your berth as soon as you emerged onto the planet. You yourself may well have believed initially this was the only way to travel in the 21st century and willingly put the money down for your fare out of your own hard earned coffers, that’s if your peers didn’t actively persuade you to take the passage with them, thinking there was no real alternative.
This however is a huge wrought iron ship with four funnels. It has engines that burn away day and night, hungrily eating up all the fossil fuels onboard. It scythes through the ocean like there is no tomorrow notching up the highest of speeds on this its maiden voyage with no thought to the wildlife that it leaves behind in its wake that choke on its fumes and feed on the litter being dropped over the railings from high above.
This is the capitalist good ship RMS Titanic, it is deemed unsinkable and is due in New York in record time in a matter of days, it is just a case of continuing to stoke the boilers and we will be there in good time, no problem.
Call it being psychic or what I don’t know, but you've just got this feeling that not all is going to go to plan on this voyage.
Maybe you are concerned about the speed in which we are travelling, how much smoke continues to pour from the chimney stacks creating the smog above the vessel? Maybe you wonder whether the lookout in the Crows Nest can see the waves breaking on the bergs ahead moving as fast as we are? There is less of them now due to climate change but there is still enough of a risk. You wonder what safety measures are in place, how many lifeboats there are on deck for the millions of people onboard and if there is any back up plan or other ships sailing in the vicinity to the route we are heading on?
You feel an urgent wish to wail at the officers in charge upon the bridge just to slow down, pay attention, take it easy, conserve energy and look to the horizon, steady as she goes. You lie awake at night listening to the sound of the propellor churning away at the back of the boat, concerned that it will be still rotating come morning as we hurtle away into the dead of the night.
Not that others haven’t raised concerns before, they have, they have just been reassured by the captain that all is OK, all is well and everything is on schedule. Those people have left their question in the question pile and gone back to partying at the captain’s table, fine dining in the restaurant, gathering around the piano, listening to the orchestra out on the deck, locking away their insecurities deep into their psyche, forgetting about what their instincts have been telling them all along.
I am onboard too and I share your sentiments exactly, I’ve not felt at home on this vessel from the start, I’ve searched high and low for a way off this ship but it is just too darn big and the drop to the sea level too much of a jump on one’s own. If there was anything ever to happen to this boat, some major collaboration would have to take place in order to get as many survivors off this vessel as is possible.
These are the thoughts that pass through our minds, as our eyelids begin to close and we go off to sleep once again.
And then it happens, the juddering in the darkness we have all feared, of bolts and girders buckling and water spraying everywhere. We’ve hit something, be it peak oil, a rise of 2 degrees centigrade in global temperature, the 8 billionth person to be born upon the planet, the loss of the Northern White Rhino or the outbreak of Covid - 19. There is panic in the midships and the captain cries out from the bridge ‘All Stop!’
An immediate reconnaissance is carried out aboard ship to assess the damage, temptation is to restart the engines again almost immediately and to plough on regardless, but enough of us now know the real fate of this vessel and it is time to plan our exit if we are to have any chance of a more meaningful life at all.
Fortunately for us there are some skilled seamen and women aboard, capable of piloting a lifeboat with the intentional communities, sustainable development centres and Transition Towns that we already have in place across the planet but we realistically need an entire new vessel to be able to save this amount of people and a mayday has only just been raised to the RMS Carpathia some miles away.
Can that boat possibly reach us in time? Is there anything that we can do to save ourselves and keep ourselves afloat before then? Is there another outcome to this story? Perhaps we can change the way that we look at life before it is all too late?
That is why it is imperative that we overcome any bullying we have encountered in our own lifetime to date, so that we can make the right choice as regards to what vessel we wish to be traveling on, finding our true identity in the process because such circumstances depict that we all need to be operating to the best of our ability now and going forwards if we are to transition from one boat to another.
If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below.