The Years that Run Like Rabbits
It was in the early 70s that I first heard Pink Floyd's great song "Time". As we near both the Spring Equinox and Census Sunday I reflect upon how my life was measured out by this ten yearly event.
In 1981 I was the census enumerator for Clyne Court and twenty yeas ago I was living in Alltwen. Ten years ago it was in Llansamlet on this Sunday it will be Ystradgynlais and my imagination goes forward to the years to come and wonder when I will become a record in a ledger or file or data on a cloud. Ten years will take me to nearly 73 and my genetics suggests that I may well make the one after in 2041. But I suspect the Ruffian on the Stairs will then condem me to tge fate of data immortality . Perhaps it is ego perhaps fear that makes me ask these questions. Do I long for my words to outlast me? Do I fantasise of being a post modern Cicero or Seneca without the unpleasant ending? Or is it just ego and a sophisticated narcissism?
What is quite clear is the reality that we have never really been able to predict or anticipate events that occur. The last census gave no indication of the world to come. But it will tell much of the lives we lived. In 1914 the troops would be home by Christmas and in 1931 Hitler was but a buffoon whose days were passed. Umberto Eco's Ur Fascisn states that it has a better record of prediction and as the Tory Government cracks down on protest and criminalises its deeds we see the coming of the Spycops Bill and the culture wars unleashed against the left. Can we predict anything but instead merely project our fears and anxieties rather than our hopes. We do know of the massive political and cultural differences between young people and the over 50s. There are those of course like myself who seem to move leftwards as we age and as we nudge towards becoming the ancestors we become more reckless with ourselves and our hopes. I am deeply ashamed of the gammon compatriots that are of my age group. Yet I am proud that we resist the post modern fascism that so often comes with the fear of death. Its no excuse to use the fear of obliteration to lead to a grasping greed of reaction and resistance. We must lightly hold on to life so that we live for a better world to come. And so as the censuses tick by I draw myself up to face the next ten year with curiosity, concern and hope. The world can be so heavy with us but we thrive in the unbelievable lightness of being and doing. My own death is not an event I will know of but the method of coping with it brings endless fun, speculation and hope and I note in the verse by Auden the words end " "for in my arms I hold the flower of the ages and the first love of the world". Ten years I saw better than now but with the fading of my sight comes the gift of Tiresias and the satire of Ovid...and then one day I find that ten years have gone behind..yet I am strolling and not running ...at least for the moment I will not be an old man in a hurry....enjoy your day..
