In The Taste Of The Day (The Idler part 1)

[Christopher Stewart]

("Upward" - detail from an old kindergarten painting)

The Idler was born of a combination of concepts discovered while exploring various domains of knowledge during the second half of the 1990s and the beginning of the 2000s.

« The idler who does not arise when it is time to arise, who is full of sloth though young and strong, who is lazy and weak in thought and mind, does not find the path to insight. » – The Dhammapada

I was developing an interest in Buddhism, and from the works of Jung, in the concepts of synchronicity, and the collective and individual unconscious, in particular in their various manifestations as guide to personal evolution :

« L’exigence de l’inconscient serait donc l’exigence de cette évolution, l’inconscient se rappelle à nous pour réaliser ce processus d’individuation, ce processus d’éveil. – C.G. Jung »

I wondered what would happen to an individual utterly oblivious to signs, or intentionally inertial. So I imagined a confrontation between a fictional character, The Idler, and their unconscious. Frustrated by the indifference of its protégé when facing dreams, somatic troubles, preoccupations, and other such signs, the unconscious takes human form in order to convince The Idler of the necessity of evolution, not only on the material plane, but also with respect with his emotive, affective, intellectual, and spiritual dimensions.

Here are the lyrics :

« I don’t have the time » is the lie
I will not believe
Coming from you the alibi
Will not deceive

« I have no control over it »
I will not allow
As objection to disbelief

« I just can’t change » is this hell
You just don’t leave
While heaven is ignored you’ll keep
Facing the heat

Until this point you will admit
I will uphold my aim
You let your own inertia
Ignite the flame

Distract yourself in the tasks of the day
Don’t lie I know you’re only idling
Divert yourself in the taste of the day
You know I know you are only hiding

Angels timely sent
Keep getting lost in the noise that is maze
Blind to dreams even deaf to body
Fate is left to the hands of the clock