HOW TO STOP TIME

And the isolation we feel, that exists on purpose

It's hard to read a book about a man that we would all consider immortal but at the same time lives life with the same restraints we do.

We have a finite time on this Earth, and yet, we all live much the same way, ignoring the fact we are only here for this miniscule moment, pretending we have all this time, surprised when life is cut short for whatever reason. Why is that?

The systems put in place obligate us to live life a certain way. We all have bills to pay, so we all must get jobs to pay them. We need a certain amount of services to function, food and water, ways to communicate, the basics of a life in the XXI century. That's established, and some (if not most of us), trying to have the basics for life end up having very little time left to try to figure out what it is that we are supposed to be doing in this circling rock.

There are so many philosophers that dwell on this very topic. What is our purpose? Why are we here. It is only logical that the first self aware specie on the planet would have questions like that. You don't see dolphins wondering what the hell is their purpose, evolution has not led them there yet. And here we are, believing that there is a marvelous point to whatever it is we do here.

"There are so many philosophers that dwell on this very topic. What is our purpose? Why are we here. It is only logical that the first self aware specie on the planet would have questions like that. "

And the truth is, like most animals, we are here to connect with our kind. I believe that is the true purpose. And unfortunately, for the main character in Matt Haig's How to Stop Time, this is the one thing he cannot do. And again, what a brilliant insight from Haig into mankind, personifying this detachment from others into one character, Hendrich, the leader of a group of immortals who has only one rule: immortals must not connect with others. And the sentence is broad like that, he is not specific about relationships (friends, lovers), nor is he specific about the kind of people he wants immortals to be separated from. And because of this broadness, we follow Tom, who's 430, an almost middle aged man (to his parameters) being isolated from everyone, remembering the few relationships he had had throughout his long life, centuries before the story we are reading is going on.

And to live this isolated life he, much like we do, he has to numb himself. He uses alcohol, but we, as a western group have all sorts of devices nowadays to keep us from reality. Social media, skin care routines, shopping online, all this amazing tools (that weirdly or not usually revolce around buying things) to keep us from thinking too much about the fact that we have distanced ourselves from that which we were actually meant to do. Be with others, experience life, with others.

Human beings are social beings. Since the dawn of our time we have organized ourselves in groups, and have only survived this far because of the strength in our numbers. First to defend ourselves from other animals, then to defend ourselves from our invented enemies, and now, with all the technology we have at hand, we have never felt more alone.

The distractions are the reason, but the truth behind them is extremely simple. The society we are inserted in, western, capitalist, it doesn't want us together. Together means thinking, sharing insights. Thinking may mean organized. How can a group of people fight for basic life rights and understand that we live in an upside down version of what humanity could be when we are all scattered, looking at individual screens, living (and fighting) for individual rights. There is no collective, even if you think of groups of people who identify with one another. The endless individual identity fight in a see of power who wants you to do just that. Fight alone, for you.

Tom, in the book, was led to believe that if he ever communed with others, he would be putting himself and his kind in danger. We can't be told that, here in the real world, directly. But instead, we are given little things to do, to fill our time, so that between work and these activities, all driven by consumerism, we are preoccupied with us and our ailments, unaware that together we just might solve them.

"He states over and over that he did the best he could with what he had, which was not a lot, but isn't that how it happens for most people? Some fear, some sense of what's right and wrong, a lot of influence from who raised us and the place we were born and there's not much more to it."

I'm not judging. I'm the same. Just now I was lying in my hammock, scrolling my screen looking online for things I don't really need. My husband in his office working and a mental list of things to do for tomorrow is going through my mind as I write this. This is what we were reduced to in these last two centuries, little work bees that are surrounded by the obligation to pay for the basic of what a human needs, without realizing there could be another way.

And please, I am in no way an advocate for a life without work. The saying goes sonething like "an idle mind is the household of the devil". If we ignore the catholic twist and the obvious feudal lord behind those words, there is still truth in them. Every society needs people to work in them, things need doing and we can do them. I only advocate agains the current logic that one must live to work and not the other way around.

Back to Tom, Haig's character, he realizes in the end of the book that it didn't make sense to spend an eternity away from other people. Hendrich, his nemesis, believed that it was possible, and that all life had to offer were individual experiences, even if they were shared with other immortals. Because it didn't matter to him the feelings and opinions of those around him, only his. A person too far gone, perhaps, down the road of individualism, one that without sever psychoanalysis treatment would spend eternity (and he did, in the book), vouching for his view of the world and what he thought life was. Happy? I don't think that people like Hendrich are, just as I don't believe they actually know what happiness is, or can be.

Since I began studying about what life could be as a collective, and I won't name the common social structures that exist in that way here because it doesn't matter to the point I'm making, I have been driven to people again. Instead of spending all my time inside myself I decided that to understand the world I needed them, the others, and not just that, shared experience and knowledge. To be with others when the world we live in is trying so hard to separate us is a form of resistance to the times we live in, real resistance not the generic posts we live so much to put on social media.

And even though the book ends with just that, Tom negating Hendrich's control and embracing others to continue living, I believe that it's on the same note as what I'm saying, it is a form of beginning, a resistance of sorts. The power that held Tom for centuries, personified in a character, was simply obliterated when Tom realized he had others, people he could count on or simply be with. The group made him stronger to negate that poor, numb reality he was in, changing his view so much he even volunteered to be studied, a wish to even share whatever he had or was with the world.

Social anxiety, isolation, a wide range of mental health issues will not change within a society that thrives on it. Capitalism does not care if you are ill, for there are an infinite amount of others just like you to replace you. Just like for Tom, there is no salvation or cure within the system you are in. Just like for Tom, it needs a fire and some breaking.