Unlike most English postgrads, I don’t waste time by dilly dallying around and asking myself, ‘What on earth is the meaning of life?’ Instead, I tend to find myself asking ‘What on earth is the meaning of this?’ As in, I question everything. Which, as you can imagine, wastes a whole lot more time, and a whole lot more energy.
My wonderful Nan, who once, I might add, went to a ‘P’ themed party wearing plastic penises on her purple hat, lives by the idea that ‘time you’ve enjoyed wasting is never wasted time’. It doesn’t matter that she probably savoured the quote from an old mug or mass produced card, what matters is that it’s kind of true. Which is good news for me really, because I am well and truly cursed when it comes to analysing the infinite details of life with every passing thought.
Yes it worked wonders for my English degree, but what do I do now I’m in the real world? The answer? I have no idea. At best, continue to write in the hope that it might actually get me somewhere someday. In the mean time, inflict my musings on the world in an attempt to figure things out for myself.
So, the question I have in my mind today is something along the lines of ‘Is questioning everything a complete waste of time?’ I’m not trying to be overly profound here, or even suss out definitive answers. I like to think that questioning something is actually very empowering. Asking a personal question about a situation, a person, a job, a place, a country, a religion, an outfit, a book, a theory, a way of life, merely allows you take aspects of the world we live in, and reshape them so that they tell you something about yourself. Your views are a fundamental part of your character. How can expanding your character ever be a waste of time? Questions make you think twice, broaden your mind, and if nothing else, entertain yourself.
If I was a teacher, and one day I hope that I am, the student that questions and doubts everything I say, will be my favourite.