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The views of this article are the perspective of the author and may not be reflective of Confessions of the Professions.
“Brrrrrrrr!!!” …went the sound of the alarm.
I hated that sound so much, but knew I had to live with it 6 days a week. As a writer in a media firm boasting just 5 staff, 5 writers (cum a million other roles), I just had to be there.
Dragging myself away from the lure of my bed, I set about trying to catch up with time. I hated this routine, I really did.
Watching the mass of people speed-walk through the streets in Leeds made me ask myself every morning, why we had to do this. Earn a living, save a lot, retire well. It just seemed like we are all stuck in someone’s master plan.
I got on the bus, too disinterested to notice a group of people surrounding some young kid playing a guitar. Shaking my head I muttered something about folks lazing about and not having important plans for their day.
Anyway, I got to the office 10mins late again today. The ‘bus excuse’ was really getting lame so all I did was mutter a nonchalant ‘sorry’ to my boss and started to walk towards my desk.
Already, scripts from the other editors were waiting, pleading to be proof-read before publication. Proof-reading, one of my ‘adhoc’ responsibilities had become a task – I hated that too. Felt like these folk were trying to take advantage of my ‘talents’.
The office was unusually quiet, without the usual buzz. Finally taking a proper look at my surrounding after 15 minutes of complaints about anything and everything, I noticed my co-staff huddled around the television set. We hardly ever used that, so I walked towards the screen knowing something was definitely up.
That was when I noticed an interview taking place at the bus station, with the caption, “The Birth Of A Star.” It was actually a short interview describing an homeless boy who moved from place to place making beautiful music with his guitar. Having been spoken about all over town, the Network TV traced him, gave him an interview and connected him with a Music school on a scholarship. In the midst of the “oohs” and “ahhs” that lingered after the interview.
I sat at my desk thinking, if only I had taken a moment to appreciate my surroundings, I would have had that story whilst also being a part of a young boy’s success story. In my haste, I had over-looked a potential story that would definitely have benefitted my work and a tale that would have brightened my day.
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Ever since that day, I have learned to enjoy life and not just live it. Take in the beautiful scenery. To be more observant and to appreciate the beautiful world we live in in spite of the negativity. After all, we’ve only got one life to live.