Are we all just cartons of milk dawdling along the conveyor belt of life?

It dawned on me today that we’re all on a conveyor belt of life. A slow-moving toddle towards something else.

But do we even realise we’re on it? That we’re on a constant, endless, dreary churn sitting there like mindless cartons of milk waiting to be shuffled along.

Hoping maybe that we are of use, perhaps in coffee, or maybe with more exciting dreams that we’ll create something really special like Angel Delight. Or maybe we don’t dare hope or dream – and instead we just angst that we’re not spilt. No one likes spilt milk.

When do we actually stick a spanner in the conveyor belt and question what we’re doing?

When did we last decide something. Actually decide something. Something real. Not what to have for supper or where to go on holiday – but the real things. The things we don’t like looking at. The things that could mean changing things. Like do I actually like my life, do I really enjoy spending time with the friends I have, do I actually relish time out cycling, do I get a kick out of my job, do I love where I live?
I don’t ask myself these questions because I’m scared of the answers. What if I don’t like one of those things? What then? I’ll have to actually do something about it.

Have we all tumbled onto the conveyor belt and we just sit there waiting because it’s sort of comfortable, it’s sort of okay, it’s sort of enough.

But is it? Is it actually enough?

Is it all just a means to an end? And if it is, then what is the end? Is it survival, is it paying a mortgage? Is it just being comfortable?

It’s a long time ago now, but I did A levels and then I went to university. I never actually stopped to think about it properly, I just did it because that’s what everyone was doing.

But what if I’d stopped to think about it, would I have done what everyone else was doing? Would I now be doing something totally different if I’d just stopped and thought about it for a bit?

I think comfort is great. It’s a massive privilege and it should definitely not be sniffed at. But is it enough? Is it enough to get up every day and do the same thing, see the same people, have the same hobbies, read the same books, listen to the same music, think the same things, eat the same food, live in the same house.

Or is there more? Is there more if we just stop this conveyor belt and start asking questions? Is it time to get restless, to ask the awkward questions and disrupt the status quo?