Elevator as Life

 

Something just struck me.

 

An elevator is a good metaphor for life. Go with me on a couple points.

 

Suppose a certain amount of predestination, we have a certain track which we follow in our lives, much like the elevator's shaft. We are born at the ground level, there are floors above us, and possibly floors below. Each floor represents a certain outcome of life. An event, a career, anything.

 

When you are in an elevator, you can choose your destination, press your floor level. However, others may also enter your car, and affect your journey by pressing their own buttons. This can either simply slow or speed up your own journey, or it can offer destinations you hadn't thought of.

 

You may think you're headed to floor 31, long career in banking, but then that certain guy/girl steps into the car and before you know it, you've started talking, and you both get off instead at floor 26, a long romance, moving in together. You can reenter the car at any point, and head back to 31 if you so choose. Or another might have gotten on, offering you a heroin needle's trip down to B2. we've all been on the elevator we think is going up, but that suddenly descends instead. But we generally get to where we're going in our own time.

 

In case of fire, take the stairs. If you have a burning need to be a banker, you can huff and puff up those stairs and pay no mind to anyone passing you by. Any of us has the choice of taking the stairs, unaffected by the few people you might pass, but you'll also give up the opportunities those people may present.

 

*ding* 20th floor, college. text books, alcohol, sex, and adventure.

 

I'm getting off. Perhaps we'll meet again.