Growing up

He looked at her as they stood, two among the crowd. Her words to him seemed cryptic, confused as they were by the abrasive noise of the music, and her intoxication. He looked at her, the same smile on his lips, flickering between his confusion and the smile to maintain the connection between them. He had to talk again, reply in some form, or he would lose her. Like a butterfly she would flit to the next group in the fluid mass of people around them. There was nothing tying her to him; no connection other than that of mutual recognition, she was just as well allied to any other person around them; more so to many than to he, and her inebriation gave her the freedom to abandon one discourse then another with none of the tiresome explanations, excuses and manoeuvres that small talk necessitated for the purposes of courtesy. Just a moment longer, his mind spoke to itself, for he could not draw words out of the slowly turning wheels of his understanding.

Yet deep down he knew at once what she had meant; were it not for circumstances they could be together. Her absent allegiance, that tenuous agreement that held none of the sanctity he felt he would have upheld were it his own; like an invisible rope between them it strengthened with proximity, and wore thin with time and distance. Yet she held onto it, and he respected the bond, and respected her, though his heart cried for him to betray his brother man for that glorious union. The beauty of it, only anticipated, as if the aroma of some pleasing dish not yet tasted, only imagined, was enough to make him consider, at the deepest of levels the satisfaction of the self, at the expense of all else. It was a cultural condition, and culture provided the tools with which to achieve it; a short walk away stood the bar, and there all manner of tonics could be found, the same result in myriad form. But for the true ruler of his heart he would have already succumbed to their call, he knew it of old, yet at his very heart he did not desire the haze, the giddy abandon, only the beautiful creature before him.

It was the Holy Spirit that steeled his resolve, his repentance that, as he had said to her, removed his desire for intoxicating spirits, but the call she had extended to him, poorly encoded in gesture and troubling word was a strong one. He desired to hold her and with tender word show her the adoration she deserved, to remove her from the seedy desires of men, to transcend through their union the base earthly lusts. So his mind had been swift to decode her message, but his sluggish reply was not the slow working of his mind, but the conflict that struck up. He did not want to betray his brother, neither did he wish to betray the ruler of his heart; he who had died on a cross for all such sins as he was considering deserved for the greatest gift of all unswerving devotion, for his love, he deserved more than any man could give, yet he delighted in the patchy love man paid to him. Conflict yet raged within him. She stepped backward a step, whether swaying with her condition or retreating from them thick tension that had flared between them he knew not. He reached out as she did, their hands on one another’s arms, fingers meeting at the briefest moments, the music loud to bring lips close to ears to convey messages coded in more than sound; in dress, in smell, and touch.

He could feel keenly every careless moment where she laid a hand upon him. Self indulgence, nothing more, kept him close to her, playing this game of careless touch, both of them knowing that it spoke coded whispers to both. He could not discern if it were mere gesture of kinship, or an outward display of desire, poorly concealed by the toxins rife in her, that robbed inhibition and put to the wind all else but one mind. He looked at her, and finally knew that he could not act. Yet in his mind he saw his lips pressed to hers, saw the beautiful butterfly caught in his gentle grip for a moment. All it would take is a moment, his mind spoke to him, and she would be lost to all others, yours forever. Yet he knew it was lies, whispered not by himself or by her, but by he who deceives all, and leads all to ruin. He looked at her again, such a beautiful face. Should he tell her his heart, and what clothes should his words cover themselves with, what disguise? Were it that honesty could allow him to speak, but he feared too much to drive her away with the stark and plain weapons to truth. She herself had explained away by now her own words to him, but their message had engrained itself, he knew a part of him was forever lost to her. That he could forget his saviour for that one moment of passion, that glorious celebration! For in his anticipation it would be so full, so rich, and full of such beauty so as to defy all beauty before it.

He looked upon her, and knew that his heart was true; he would betray no one, for his saviour, he would put to death his ruinous and selfish desire, knowing whence it came. Yet he had already, he spoke once more to himself, committed the sin, for in his mind, he had pressed his lips to hers a thousand times, one thousand times betrayed his brother, and his saviour. So if the sin was already committed, and he knew by grace forgiven even before its very utterance in thought, let alone word, or deed, why not partake of that sweet fruit? He laughed in his mind as he recognised the voice of the tempter, mocking him with the truth of his saviour. To that he clung, as a man whose ship has been lost to the deeps clings to a life raft. His is a temporary existence, a between, where he struggles to survive, until he is rescued truly. At that moment he seems reborn, though he thought he should have perished. To that he clung as she did him the courtesy of making her excuse, and flitting away.

Loughborough University research group are tackling the implications of an aging workforce in the UK. There are now twice as many workers in the UK over the age of 50 than there are 25 or younger. The reality of an older workforce has been identified along with climate change and the threat of terrorism as one of the three national challenges our government is committed to solving.

The RSA seem to be right on the money this year with their focus on design for intervention in a range of situations where design may not have traditionally been thought to have a place. It strikes a chord with me and where I think design should be looking to be employed. I have been looking at the RSA brief in conjunction with the Loughborough team, and it has piqued my interest.

There are 4 programs they outline for interventions in the workplace, the focus of the brief being the third; the increase of physical activity in workers of all ages to promote a healthy lifestyle. The fourth intervention seems right on the mark for me: an 'inclusive workplace' model, to optimise the health, productivity, safety, and well being of workers.

My interest here is outlined below. When it comes to wellbeing, exercise is great, and the solutions the research team seem to be outlining are more than likely going to be very helpful. But I think the underestimation of 'playing' is a great oversight. As a result the questions I would start to ask of the workplace veer away from the interventions the brief has outlined. Question such as what is age, and what defines 'age'. Whether it is the number of years since your birth, your physical condition, or whether it runs deeper. A scientific research team might miss the point slightly, that age runs deeper; it is a collection of attitudes, prejudices, judgments, responses, and a mindset. You can have an old twentysomething, or a young retiree.

Surely the 'solution' to age lies in switching of mental attitudes, not behaviour. But then who is to say you can't change behaviour first and mental attitudes will follow? What is the kind of behaviour that would work? Is it walking more, having a pedometer, cycling to work, or participating in special 'team days' with your colleagues? I think these might help, but they miss the point slightly. What is needed?

Adults need to be reminded that it is acceptable to play!

 Further to the discussion over youth, is the issue of experience.

Chronocentrism is the belief that a certain period of time which one identifies with is superior to the past and future. All generations to date are surely guilty of this.

It is youth who have vitality but no experience, and adults who have experience, which has often robbed them of their vitality. I discussed previously how this might be rejected, and rather than being a condition of physical laws according to the passage of time, rather it was an imposed ideology due to the unenlightened thinking of a majority. The idea that youth should learn from age is commonly accepted, and taken as a sign of respect; that is to respect your elders is to learn from and obey them; to acknowledge their greater experience as senior to your own.

However in a basic sense the youth of any period of time can teach the mature of that same period, particularly in my generation, because of their affinity with new technology. Therefore the idea that seems to be upheld by closed-minded individuals that they cannot learn from those younger than them is foolish. This view applied across life brings with it the opportunity to challenge many existing preconceptions, assumptions and ultimately lead to breaking down prejudices in ones mind. The idea that you can learn from anyone, no matter what their age, once applied brings a great humility and freedom.

The wider discussion about experience is most interesting. It is often attributed as the thing that ages people, in mind, body, soul or spirit, in a positive way, but also in a wearing, degrading way, mentally, physically, spiritually, and so on. And once again there are opportunities to challenge the accepted ideology concerning experience. Experience and cynicism seem to go hand in hand, and this commonly accepted pattern is well-rehearsed, I would say an unconscious process in the majority of people. However taking this out of the unconscious into the realms of the conscious, and actively disregarding experience that is detrimental, in that it forms prejudice, encourages cynicism and degrades the mental, physical, or spiritual aspects of a person ultimately forms one into a better person.

The visual landscape around us is packed with techniques to prolong youth, to delay the ravages of time upon our physical aspect. Anti-aging treatments are sold on the basis of fighting the seven signs of aging, or reducing the signs of wear and tear that age bring. Products are sold to us to keep us healthy, to regain the feeling of vigour that youth has, to recapture the energy and the sharpness of mind.

It is also true that most of the aging problems we encounter would be solved by three nutritious meals a day and an early bedtime.

But there is something else that it seems to me we have lost. As a child my priority was to play: to climb, run, tumble, make-believe, and so on. As a child you have the energy and exuberance to move of sheer joy for your physical state. As a child you are happy, you have no responsibility, you have much freedom. As we get older, however, cares and responsibilities heap upon us, and we no longer have time to play. What's more socially accepted patterns of behaviour dictate that we should be doing certain things. Children 'should' play. Adults 'should' sit and talk after a meal. Students 'should' go out and get very drunk every Friday.

Call this the zeitgeist if you will, the unspoken patterns that we are prey to, because if we break them, people will be confused, not understanding our motives for doing so, and become wary of us, reject us. In fact, as a social creature, we subject ourselves to the ultimately degrading but socially accepted patterns of behaviour for our age, in order to gain acceptance to the majority, and so not be on the fringe, where we might not survive. But these accepted patterns of behaviour are actually detrimental to this youth we are chasing after. We can no longer dance and shout and sing for the joy of it once we pass a certain age; it ceases to become endearing, and becomes confusing, frightening, or annoying.

In the Old Testament, David dances in praise of God. To the world about he looked foolish, and undignified. But he didn't care, because he was expressing his praise, his exuberant joy, which came from knowing God. Jesus too, a 'rabbi' was expected to conform to certain patterns of behaviour. He, a righteous man who knew the law inside out should associate with other 'righteous' men, but instead he ate with tax collectors, the sworn enemies of the Jews, and he went to beggars, outcasts, prostitutes, lepers; the people society condemned and he said 'these are the people I have come for.'

My point is that if we stop and look at how we behave, and the socially accepted patterns that dictate this, then we realise that society and what it deems 'acceptable behaviour' stops us playing, it tries to kill that mindset that is childlike, that is youthful.

Instead we try to keep our youth with creams, diets, and ever more sophisticated cosmetics. These are in fact childish, concerned with the physical appearance, as if that denotes a youthful state of mind and heart. But when we stop playing, we abandon the chance at being youthful. It would be empty to say that to stay youthful is the goal of mankind, if youthful meant the look of the exterior. But youthful is in fact the state of the mind. I believe mankind was created to be one with God, reconciled to Him in Christ Jesus. Jesus called us to be childlike but not childish. But in fact our patterns of behaviour in society are set up to remove us from the childlike mind.

I do think we need to leave the childish attitudes of our youth behind, and mature with Christ as we grow older. But not at the expense of leaving behind all that keeps us youthful, all that keeps us childlike. In fact everything about being childlike that I can think of, helps to lead us to Cod.

'The key to enlightenment is introspection'. I wrote and said those words once, and as words written whilst on any journey, they age. I am an introspective person. I became so when I grew old enough to start thinking about what sort of person I wanted to be, and introspection led me to all sorts of understanding about inter-personal relationships. I realised that as humans we are burdened with many conditions, among them: pride, selfish gain, and a burning desire for acceptance and love.

Along with a friend (who could be a bodhisattva) we conceived theories, as if we were a school of philosophical thought. 'Supermen', 'the pantomime trap' and others less defined, but all products of our examining of our generation and its condition and mindsets. I realised at the root of this that our culture led to our explorations; the security of western, caucasian affluence. I realised that to be truly free one could never adopt principles, except that of not adopting a principle, and that true freedom is somewhat a myth, for defining freedom as an absolute (calling it 'true' freedom') immediately makes it impossible to achieve.

My understanding left me with some knowledge. I was aware of my conditioning, and knew I had to disregard it if I wanted to be free, but equally that large amounts of the conditioning were 'good things' in my opinion. I knew from my understanding of others that I didn't want to be like them in their flaws, because I recognised my own flaws in them. I didn't want to be part of the pantomime of social exchange (more than I had to) but I did want to be around it, so that I could enjoy watching it. I also knew that there was something intangible about the world, a precision in its orchestration that was design, not accident. As with everyone, I recognised the deep–rooted need for love, and also a personal terror of nothingness, of a ceasing to exist.

I am a Christian. Let there by no pretense. There is something in my heart that keeps me clinging to God. And I am convinced as a result of the conditions outlined above at the truth of Christianity. Nothing else deals with the human condition completely and effectively.

Even so these things should not be the basis for faith. There are myriad reasons as to why I could come to Christianity; cultural conditioning, solving my fear of nothingness, fulfilling my desire to be in but not part of culture, forgiveness for the many sins I see in myself and see myself doing day by day.

Thank God that the basis of faith is not feelings, for if it were, I should be a Christian one day and not the next. My battle is to stay reminded of the cross, to strive to be Christlike. And whilst introspection is vital, to be enlightened is to follow God.