The Toronto skyline faded behind us as our tour boat, the Harbour Star, motored out from Queen’s Quay. I had anticipated this ride to be a bit over-touristy, but it was kind of fantastic.
A very animated young redhead narrated the tour. She spoke about the history and the current happenings in and around the harbour and the islands. On such a hot summer day, it was hard to imagine any part of this harbour being frozen over as she had mentioned. We learned of the rivalries between the local yacht clubs (oh, life gets so complicated sometimes…) and even got to witness children scrambling to keep their sailboats upright during lessons from the National Yacht Club’s Junior Sailing School; so cute…and kind of funny. There were great views of everything from here, but get in line early to avoid elbowing fanny-packers for a chance to sit outside.
I sat inside the boat, chin resting on my folded arms (that were being slightly scalded by the sun, but oh well) and just gazed out the window as the breeze ruffled my hair. The boat was quiet. The animated redhead had stopped speaking and the original Dusty Springfield version of The Look of Love gently caressed my ears. We coasted past swans frolicking on the bank, a family splashing about in the water, and a mass of orange clad children flying kites. Obviously appreciating the serenity, a very wise woman (yes mom, that’s you) turned to me and said, “There’s so much life has to offer, it’s a pity people have to work.” Hmm. I pondered this profound statement. It was indeed a pity…but how did it come to be this way?
There was only one conclusion–society must have been designed incorrectly.
I mean, who decided we should work for most of our lives, eventually retire at some old age, and only then take the time to live and play? Who decided that work should take up most of your day, most of your week, and most of your life? And who decided that doing something you love would be next to the most impossible way to make a living, so instead you are more likely to spend this work portion of your life doing something you could really care less about? And most importantly, who invented the heinous, torture device that we have come to know as a cubicle?! No.
Life was not meant to be lived this way. There must have been some kind of mistake. Maybe there will be a recall on this faulty life design, and they will come out with a new and improved version. They are probably working out the details now. For now, I am content to forge my own path (because I can’t wait around forever). Live and play will be at the forefront of my design, with work spliced in accordingly. Or, ideally, I will find the perfect fusion of live-play-work and be able to patent my design and sell it. We’ll see what happens. In the mean time, refuse to accept the existing design; there is so much life has to offer.
Perhaps one day “they” will issue a public apology.
