Poo-foria: Life’s secret sauce

poop“When you get to my age you’ll realise that the most important thing in life is not money, fame or power. It is having good bowel movement.”

When a friend’s grandfather made that comment more than a decade ago, I knew I was in the presence of a seer. This man had emerged wiser through life and its struggles, with the ability to understand the root of our miseries (not shit, or the lack thereof). He was speaking not only about what a healthy body can do to our joie de vivre. He was speaking also, if you can see beyond the crap, about perspective.

What his comment really seemed to say was, life is simple girl. It appears deceptively like the toughest episode on Crystal Maze (remember that?). Instead it is as straight laced as Peter Capaldi’s abuse-spewing tongue in Thick of it. The machinations at play are only those we invent, to help make sense of all the mess. Instead, what we should be doing is eating our greens (and whole grains), having protected sex and making enough money to buy a traveling trailer.

Wait, wasn’t that what the hippies said (with some drug cocktails thrown in)?

Well, they were onto something.

An entrepreneur, who set up a successful media company more than a decade ago, mentioned encountering some young working professionals (the millennials if you will) who said a job is what they do to ‘pass time’. For someone who has built a business from scratch that is a dreadful statement to encounter. This passing time is likely to catch the young lot unawares when they turn 30 and have the universal what-am-I-doing-with-my-life crisis. For hamsters so caught up in running the wheel, it is often difficult to recognise that they’re not getting anywhere.

Instead blessed are those that have found their passion when young and understood that life is not the road to anything. It is rather the bittersweet ride where best laid plans can come to naught and victories often fly by quicker than bumps. The laughter is not in some grand culmination of events but in the smiles at silly turns.

This Poo-foria philosophy, as I have deemed fit to term it, is the recognition that beyond all our disparate dreams for love, work, family and the world, true joy lies in the simple life – in a warm embrace, a shared meal, in combining forces for good, in a stranger’s (non-creepy) smile and with regularity, in the unhindered (and mindful) release of bodily waste.


The One Page You

Resumes are perhaps the least indicative of what to expect from a person. For these (preferably one page) rejection instruments describe what you’ve done and not who you are. What you’ve done may reasonably describe who you are but what if you want to change tracks and be something else half way through your life?

The powers that be like nothing more than order and symmetry and anything or anyone who might disrupt that better have a good enough reason (or a good quotation) to explain the ‘inconsistencies’. Sample: Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. But not everyone appreciates Oscar Wilde.

And then there are other things. I wonder at the different reactions that “Female, Single”, “Female, married” or “Female, 35 years, Single” probably get.

The world of this one page ode to self is strange indeed. It’s the world where 92.5 becomes 95, 10 months become 1 year and sometimes truth comes in the way of an otherwise great story.

People in ‘The Department’ sift through pages that are people and put them in boxes (or straight in the trash). Who knows? I bet there are jokes floated around to the tune of “Hey check this one out”. Ha Ha.

It’s all about separating the grain from the chaff, they say. And what’s to rejoice at being grain. You’re bird food.

Wise men will tell you that it is much ado about nothing. A job is a job is a job and life is what happens after 6pm. Well so be it.

But the dream remains. That one day brevity will rule the roost and one page descriptions will reduce to two magic words…Your illustrious name.