A few months ago I had the opportunity to attend the last concert of the musical group Hertzainak. A unique opportunity. On Friday, thousands of people gathered at BEC to praise the rebel chords of the vitorians, feed back the different memories of our lives, or simply leave the weekly routine. We can say that one of the most well-known songs of the group, the popular vox, is Recognition, and so that night, the listeners recognize Gari and the company eternal fidelity.

We have become the slaves of “Routine”, the song that said […] yes. But what do we mean by routine? Since when does that word drown us, which, although written in a tiny letter, has so much meaning in our society? Although I do not have much time to reflect on this, the “companion lineages” of our grandparents necessarily come to my mind. Awakening or awakening – to go daily to milk –, comb the solo, go to wood, gather chestnuts, prepare fodder for eleven and one people, arrange the branches of the broom, burnish the boilers of the low fire… Their lives, of our ancestors, were as always, routine, full of routines. Well, everyday life was inevitably tied to the rhythm of the goru spins that grandma mastered.

Yes, yes, as the Church established, we had to leave every Sunday and rest, at least until today, but today I do not know if we are so serious about this rule. Women were coming out of the mass and on their way home, hopefully, they could talk to neighbors, or a license to eat a chocolate chip after the meal, maybe to get a little away from what they could call routine. In the case of women, peccata minuta, but sin, yet. The men, however, were more sophisticated: they went to the bar and reduced or forgotten the routine loads between young and brandy.

Less bad than times have changed. Today, when we leave the need that inspires our life, the “fortunate” are able to manage countless possibilities so as not to be slaves to the routine, to deal with Gari’s phrase. Crossfit, body-pump, macrame, pilates, climbing, yoga, learn Chinese, take children to the park and enjoy their free time (at least anyone can), read quietly at home or watch Netflix…

We try to avoid the routine, but I think that after so much effort, paradoxically, we have become slaves to that “revolution.” Today, when I was out of work and I was going to climb next (because I did not eat), I went under a bridge from Galdakao, and look! I've seen a very curious scream: a mote painted on the wall with a sign in his hands. Do you know what the poster was saying? Wake up the marmote.

Carlos Aretxabaleta Txapel