The Unobtainable Light, or Two Paths That Diverged

A person must continue to walk throughout their life or else, just like the stream that stagnates, all signs of life will slowly disappear and vanish.  Water, the giver of life, knows that it must constantly seek change if it is to remain alive, it knows that it must always flow, finding new pathways, and overcoming obstacles if it is to succeed, if it is to reach its journey's end. 

 

Following the path is a journey of discovery, it is a journey of growth, and a journey of evolution.  When I began in earnest, seperating myself from the known, the safe, and the secure, my life changed dramatically in ways that I could never have predicted.  Guided by my heart, it led me along a pathway that for many years, I had been too scared to tread, too afraid of the possibilities, feeling that I was not deserving of the happiness that awaited, afraid of the consequences that would come if I were to realise my innermost dreams.

There was one significant moment when I came upon two roads that diverged before me.  One was a secure looking, safe road, that was well trodden by those who had come before me, and it would make for comfortable, easy walking.  The other, now that one was dark and twisting, nothing was discernible around the first bend, it appeared uninviting, and where it led I could not tell.  Yet, as I stood before these roads, I knew already the way I would go.  Even though I stood a while and debated, argued, and reasoned with myself, the route I would take had been set long ago.  My head fought with my heart that day, and as I knew it would, my heart won.  I plunged into the darkness and lost myself in the vastness of the unknown.

The irony was of course, that becoming lost on this road was the very thing that helped me to discover myself.  Around that first corner, obscured from view, but so tantalisingly close (if you could ever know it), was the greatest, warmest, and brightest light that I have ever seen.  It was the light of love that awaits all who seek the true path for themselves.  It was the light of understanding of self, of the world, and the universe.  I tried to reach that light, I wanted to reach it and attain it, and so I walked faster and faster towards it, always seeking it. 

But I could not.  Like a dog that chases its own shadow, no matter how hard I tried, I could never reach my goal.  The light was always there, shining ever more brightly, burning with an intensity that was hard to look upon.  It took me some time to realise that there was one very good reason I could not reach that light, no matter how hard I tried or how fast I ran towards it.  The light had led me on a journey to new places, with new people and new experiences.  My life was changed, I was changed from the person who I once was.  Part of me remained, I could feel that, the old me lived within the new, one and the same, changed yet still the same.  And with me were fragments of all the people that I had encountered, all of the places where I had been, and all of the incredible wonders I had experienced, just as I was a fragment within those same people.  Everyone I encountered left a mark upon my soul, enriching me, as I too left my mark upon theirs, bonding us forever across space and time.

It was only much later that I was able to come to an understanding.  When I had stood and looked upon those two diverging roads, there was never a debate as to which one I would take.  I was always going to take the path that I took.  It wasn't just about where I was at that moment, it was also about when I was.  I was at the right place and I had arrived at the right moment, to be where and when I needed to be so that I could act and make the decision that needed to be made.  A decision that was preordained in the mists of time, in the making of the universe.  I arrived exactly when I was supposed to arrive, the result of countless trillions of possibilities and happenings.  

I was always going to become all that I have become.  It was my life purpose.  When I was born, it was written in my heart that this is who I would be, these were the things that I would do, and the thoughts that I would have.  From that moment on, everything I have ever done has steered me on my journey. Sometimes it has been done unconsciously, without my even realising it, but always I have steered myself on the journey of my own making.  I could never have changed it.  My heart is too strong, it speaks too loudly for me to ever deny its existence.

I believe that this is the same for everyone of us.  Every person has a message written inside their heart.  It is the DNA of who they truly are, the person that they are destined to be.  If you listen and take heed of that message, then you will find the path that is right for you at exactly the moment when you need it.  You too will discover the light that awaits.

And as for that light that I tried so hard to reach?  I still cannot touch it, no matter what it is that I do.  It still remains there, always out of my reach.  Why?  Because that light is me and I am the light of the universe that shines the way.  I am the light of love.  I am the light of life.  I am me, and that is all I ever needed to be.  The real me, the true me.

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The Wind, The Ocean, Love and Kata

Kata sat on a rock at the water's edge, looked out across the flat expanse of the sea, and listened to the gentle lapping of the waves as they broke idly onto the shore.  It was hard to imagine that two days ago, the ocean had been stirred up into a wild frenzy by a wind that had rushed across the water to meet the land, where it threatened to tear out all of the trees by their roots and hurl them into the air.  The sea was certainly a capricious beast that could never be tamed, she thought.  

A few years before, Kata had lost her father to one such storm that rolled in during the spring.  A fisherman, her father had been out in his boat casting his nets when out of nowhere came the fury of a mighty wind.  The skies that had been one moment clear and blue suddenly became dark grey and threatening, obliterating the sun and casting a darkness across the day.  Even though her father worked furiously to haul his nets back in, little did he know that it was already too late for him. Death had marked him as His already. There would be no escape.

Perched on her rock, Kata gave silent thanks for the life of her father and recalled how he would return from a day at sea, scoop her up in his huge arms and throw her into the air.  "Here's my most precious fish!" he would shout as he caught her safely again and they would both laugh together.  A lone tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek.  Kata quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand and was annoyed with herself.  "Stupid Kata!" she chided herself,  "The women do not cry for their lost men, they rejoice and laugh in the meaning of their lives, they give thanks for the sacrifice, and for the return to the beginning, so that they can live again a different life", she repeated the words of the elder women.  She knew that all life must end and that eventually, everything must return to the beginning, just as it always had, just as it always would.  This was the eternal cycle.

These thoughts of her father stayed with her.  As she looked out over the ocean, she pictured his face, a face that was lined and weather beaten by the years of sun, wind, and salt spray, and a face that expressed deep love and joy for life and for her.  Whether it was the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore that had lulled her into the trance, Kata could not say, but she felt herself lifting away from her consciousness, her soul rising up, as if it were a separate entity from her body.  This did not frighten her, it had happened before and now she let the process continue, as she drifted within the embrace of love, light, and well-being that surrounded her.  Without knowing how, she knew and felt that the love emanated from her heart, that her heart was the source of an infinite amount of love, and that this love needed to be released back into the universe.  There was no question for Kata on this, for her, it was the absolute truth without question.  She had felt this sensation before and each time it occurred, and it did ever more frequently, she arrived at the same truth and understanding. There could be no doubt about it.  

Perhaps it had been the thoughts of her father that caused the next words to run through the conscious part of her mind, that part which retained the connection to the Earth, to the plane of the living.  As soon as the thought came to her, she understood and saw it plainly.  'The love of the dead can never be lost, that love which we held in our heart when they were living, lives on eternal within us.  The love that we found and expressed through them, joins our own and becomes a greater love, enriched and nourished by them, preserving their soul within ours.  It is true for the living and it is true for the dead.  This is why we can feel those whom we have loved alive within our hearts.  Everything in nature, whether it be tree, plant, rock, bird, butterfly, fish, or barking dog, gives to us love if we are willing to see it and to accept it.  In this way, the more we love and connect with the natural world, the more love we will receive, and the greater the love will we have to give, and thus, will our heart grow ever more.'

Kata was back on the rock, looking out to sea.  She remained there for a few moments longer, letting herself become accustomed once more to her surroundings, feeling the peace and calmness that ran through her veins.  A breeze blew across the water causing ripples to form on its surface, ripples that one day would become mighty waves.  She recalled some words once said to her, 'Nothing living can ever remain still, stillness is the province of death.'  With this thought she stood and knew where she would go.  She looked one last time across the ocean and smiled, then she turned away, and walked towards the village, where she would buy some bread and some mint to make tea, and pay a visit to the Teacher and share these new thoughts.

_________________________

Thirty Nine More Summers

This morning, I woke up to the sad news that Leonard Nimoy (aka Mr Spock from Star Trek) had died at the age of 83.  I was saddened for the loss of one of the characters with whom I had grown up with, and whose spats with Captain Kirk I had enjoyed to watch play out on screen and whose underlying love and respect for each other was always evident, even in their darkest moments.  Although deeply saddened by the news, it was another thought that occurred to me, the realisation of which shocked me rather suddenly and more deeply.

The thought that came unbidden to my mind was that if I also am to live to the age of 83 years, I will see only another 39 more summers.  Old age and death have always seemed so remote to my thinking.  I never ponder them since they are the inevitability of life and there is nothing that I can do about either of them.  With each key stroke on my keyboard, I have aged.  With each key stroke on my keyboard, I have moved inexorably towards my end.  Everyday, we live out our lives and at the end of each, we are sure that we have many more ahead of us, many more opportunities to change things, to do all of those things that we wish to do, to fulfill our dreams.  "I'll do it tomorrow."  "I'll get around to it next week."  "I'll do that next year."  I too have these thoughts.  I am sure every single one of us has them for one reason or another.  There is after all, only so much that can be achieved within a day.

Each day of our lives is already filled with so much that we have to accomplish in order to survive.  School, university, and work take up huge amounts of our time for those of us not yet retired.  That's 33% of our time allocated at least and if not more.  Sleep accounts for around another 33% of our time.  Now we are left with about 30% of 'free time'.  But is that time free?  We have to eat.  In order to eat we must prepare food.  In order to prepare food we must go and purchase some groceries.  There's administration of our lives to deal with too - paying bills and banking, checking insurance policies, and so on.  Slowly, the amount of free time ebbs away.  This is before we factor in any time for checking Facebook, Twitter and other social media, before we catch up on the news and perhaps the weather.  And if you happen to be a parent...  Well, my mind boggles with that one! How do we fit it all in?  When do we find the time for ourselves?  Where are the quiet moments of contemplation and thought, for reflective thinking and for making sense of everything that is going on?  And whilst you are thinking this, a nagging thought sits in your head, "I should call Mum and Dad."

Time is not on our side.  It marches on, flowing like an uncontrolled torrent whose waters we can try to slow down and dam, but the attempt to do so is futile.  Eventually the dam will break and the water will flow on towards its final destination, where the river is lost within the ocean.  Our days are numbered.  Those of us who are fortunate enough to live without illness or disease, we think of ourselves as immortal and untouched, but we are not.  From the moment we come into this world in a physical state, we begin the slow process of decay. The cycle of life must be completed.  I recall at this moment a line from Mr Keating in the movie Dead Poets Society, "We are food for worms boys."  Our time of life will inevitably cease and we will indeed go back to the earth where our bodies will nourish the soil and become new life.

I feel that there is a paradox that haunts human life.  When we are in the midst of it, we feel that we are immortal, that we will go on forever, that we will always exist, even though we know that logically this cannot be the case.  We know that life must come to an end but it is always the end of a different life, not our own and in this way of thinking, perhaps we sidestep the inevitable - that we too must one day cease to exist.  There is a part of me that is thinking as I write this, that maybe this way of thinking is driven by the fact that our spirit and essence of life knows a different story.  That the body my die but the soul lives on eternal?  Or perhaps we have tricked ourselves and conjured up another Santa Claus because we cannot face the thought that this is really it?  Whatever your thoughts on life, death and the after-life, there is one inescapable thing: the body, as a living organism cannot survive indefinitely.  Our days are numbered.  How then should we live out those days?  

Mr Spock was famous for his saying, "Live long and prosper."  I'd like to add something to this because I feel it is not complete.  It lacks a kind of definition.  What does he mean by prosper?  For me, to prosper in life is to live happily, a deep rooted, in the guts of your stomach and a fluttering of the heart kind of happy.  Prosperity is not economic and monetary success.  I thought about this yesterday actually and how I often say that we should look on the world through the eyes of a child.  When I thought about that yesterday, I changed my mind about it.  I would rather look upon the world as a dog sees it.  A dog lives their life in the moment; they find joys in the simplest of pleasures, they make the most of what they have, when they have it; they wear their heart on their sleeve for everyone to see - their emotions are plainly and sometimes painfully evident; and a dog craves love and gives love unconditionally.  That is the way to live - isn't it?

So then, if I am to enjoy (for summer is my time of great enjoyment) only another 39 summers, I had better make the most of every single one.  If I am going to suck all of the marrow out of life (thank you Henry Thoreau) then I should do so today, starting right now.  If there is something that you have planned to do, begin it today.  Make a start.  I can assure you that once the movement begins, it will inevitably gather pace and momentum.  Please don't leave important things undone.  Say I love you. Offer a smile to the world. Make a positive difference.  Our time may be short, but by golly, we can make it such a time as to be worthy of being remembered, a time that will echo across eternity to the furthest star of the universe.  Live long and prosper by all means but just make sure that along the way you love, that the love starts with you, and you wag your tail as much as you darn well can for as long as you are able.

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A Long Time Dead

The wind carried something with it that day.  Daniel could feel it.  It was not the biting cold that came down from the north, an infectious, bitterness that permeated the skin, burying its claws deep, finding its way inside his veins.  Nor was it the dampness that fell from the dark clouds that scurried overhead, charging across the valley, driven on by the ever present wind.  This feeling of Daniel's came from within and it was not the first time that he had felt it.  Today though, it was different.  Perhaps it was the cold that made his mind drift and long for the warm days of summer, more so this day than before.  Whatever it was, it mattered not.  In his heart, Daniel knew what he must do, as he had known for some time now.

~ ~ ~

This morning, as I walked down into the city of Wellington, through the cemetery at Bolton Street, a thought came to my mind.  'A long time dead.'  I'm not sure what brought this thought to my mind.  Like so many thoughts that occur, a spark of some mysterious force triggers them seemingly out of nowhere, but the truth is that deep down, some place in the subconsciousness, this thought has been forming, growing and watered, waiting for the moment when it would raise its head from the soil and make itself known.  The old graves of the cemetery, the stones that look down upon the city and the water, they were the trigger today.  Underneath that earth are the remains of people that once lived, who once breathed just as you and I breathe, who smiled, laughed and cried, who believed that there would always be another day.

The truth is that one day will come the last day.  It might not be today, nor tomorrow, it might not even be for a number of years, yet that day will surely come, as surely as night follows day.  Each day that we live out our lives brings us one day closer to our inevitable end.  Is that a melancholy and depressing thought?  I don't mean it to be.  I use it only to illustrate one very important point: the need to make hay, the need to make dreams a living reality sooner rather than later.  Or, as a certain Robert Herrick once wrote, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may."

This cycle tour has illustrated that to me very clearly.  At certain moments I have felt a rush of life force flooding my veins.  I have been unable to prevent a beaming grin from erupting on my face.  In the middle of no where, on my own, surrounded only by the wild of nature, the calls of birds, the hum of cicadas, I have laughed out loud, I have punched the air with sheer glee and delight, an overwhelming emotion of being here, of living out my dream and the giddy, euphoric happiness that comes with it.  There have been moments when I have wanted to cry, overcome with raw emotion and joy.  Those moments, those are the precious moments that define a life.  No, not just a life.  They define life.

I am guilty of squandered chances.  I know that much to my own chagrin.  I try not to waste chances but waste them I do.  Sometimes fear gets the better of me.  It is important to own up to such things because I feel it is important that any reader know that everyone is imperfect.  I talk to others of the pursuit of dreams and I encourage them.  I always shall.  I want to see others accomplish their goals and achieve their desires.  I use my own life as an illustration that anyone, that everyone can do this.  It is simply a case of taking the first step and then the next.  Those wasted chances, some I may live to regret, but I also know that certain chances will come again, if they were meant to be.  That is how we learn the lessons and how we grow our life spirit.

I have dreams to be fulfilled.  I do not know if I will achieve them all.  Right now, I have a work in progress.  My cycle tour is underway, I already feel that I have accomplished so much more than I could ever have expected.  Nonetheless, I will see it through to the end.  And after?  There is a question that remains to be answered.  One dream at a time.  Life has a way of resolving itself, of bringing you what you need, when you need it, you just have to keep your eyes open.  More than that though, you must keep your heart open and see the world through its eyes.  Perhaps that is the best advice of all.

Never reach the end and look back with regret.  The best definition of regret I can offer is that regret is wasted energy.  If you can change something, change it.  If you cannot, move on and leave it behind.  To reach that final day and to know that there were things that you still wished to accomplish, things that you knew you could have done, that is not regret.  This is my definition of hell.  And you shall not find me there.

~ ~ ~

Daniel stood up and began to walk back down the hillside.  He began slowly, finding that despite the downward force of gravity, his legs felt tired and heavy, unwilling to move.  "Perhaps I sat for too long?", he wondered, but already he knew that was not the reason for the heaviness he was feeling.  Sitting up on the hill, Daniel had looked out across the hills, valleys, rivers and fields of this land he knew so well and he had made a promise to himself.  It was that promise that now weighed heavily on his shoulders and gave reluctance to his legs.  "When I get to the bottom of the hill and reach home, everything will change and nothing will ever be the same again."  Had he made the right decision?  He could change his mind and no one would ever know about the promise that he had made to himself.  No one that was, except for his own heart.  Yet, even as the thought of breaking the promise came to him, a chink in the clouds appeared, sending a shaft of sunlight beaming down to light up a patch of stony ground on the earth below.  It was a sign and in that moment, any weariness left him.  In that moment of cloud, sun and earth, Daniel knew something important, he felt some how different.  He had begun and he would see it through.  And with that thought, Daniel's heart began to be happy.

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Flying On Two Wheels And Skinny Dipping

The water was clear, blue and inviting. The sun, which only put in an occasional appearance was hot when it did, lighting up the landscape, transforming it, giving it life and a glow. At a bend in the river, the water slowed and deepened and there were smooth, rounded, polished rocks that made a natural set of steps down to the edge. This was the place, I knew it would be, I felt it inside. It was now or never. To take the plunge or to let the chance pass me by forever...

Today, I finally set off from Taupo, after spending two full days there. That had never been the plan. The plan was for one rest day but yesterday, when I awoke, I could scarcely find the energy to move, let alone pack up the bike and head off down the road. I knew that I would not make it, I knew that I did not want to make it, perhaps that was more the thing, so I planned for another day in Taupo.

It is the Waikato River that crashes and tumbles its way through the narrow gorge of the Huka Falls, a most spectacular sight, where I had spent a couple of hours the previous day. I had seen the falls on my first visit to New Zealand ten years ago, but I did not remember them being quite as impressive as I found it to be now. Perhaps that has much to do with my rebirth, by the discovery of my true self and the subsequent way in which I now see the world around me. I stood mesmerised by the water and the natural power that was on show, and by the constant roar of fury, almost as if the water was angered by the constriction set upon it by the hard rock of the narrow gorge, through which it must flow. Once through, the river broadens and slows and returns to peaceful tranquility, as if the tumultousness of what had just occurred had never been. Now that I recall it, as I had stood on the bridge across Huka Falls, I could feel myself drawn to the water below. Despite the obvious danger and risk to life, I wanted to be in that water, to be part of it, perhaps forever.

My road today was again State Highway 1 (SH1), that ran alongside the lake, affording me considerable views across the great expanse of water. I was under the misguided impression that there would be ample places to stop for a coffee break once underway, on that I was utterly wrong. As it happened, it did not matter. My legs felt strong and I pushed along at a great rate. Even the one big hill of the day, coming at 12km, was no problem and I went up and over with barely a second thought about it. On the other side, with the wind behind me, I maintained speeds in excess of 50km/h for a few kilometres. I could not contain myself and I screamed out and punched the air as I rocketed down hill. My two wheels may have been on the road but my heart and soul were flying, my spirit had been set free. This truly was freedom, this was exultation, this was love. I thought once about stopping and at 35km, I pulled in to a gas station and cafe, but I reasoned that by then, I was only a further 15km from Turangi itself and at the rate I was cycling and the way I was feeling, this was no problem at all.

I made it to Turangi within two hours of setting off from Taupo. 50km in two hours with a fully loaded touring bike. That showed me exactly what could be done when the wind was not in your face all day. I had been tempted to make a lunch stop then push on through fro Turangi and continue along the Desert Road south, as I felt as if I could cycle all day this day. But as I had entered Turangi, a cold drizzle had begun to fall and the thought of going past, knowing that the road ahead held little in the way of stopping points, I quickly went off the idea. Instead, I booked into a backpackers (even the thought of pitching the tent had lost all appeal in the grey dampness) and I decided to stay in Turangi as I had originally planned.

With an afternoon free, I took advantage of a walk along the Tongariro River and as I did, the sun broke through the cloud, bringing light and warmth. The thought of taking a dip in the river came to my mind, all I needed to do was to find the right place. I had no togs (bathing suit) with me, so it would need to be a skinny dip, in underwear at the very least. I found the perfect spot and for a minute I contemplated whether I should take the plunge. I knew it was a now or never moment, a once in a lifetime moment that decides your fate and alters the course of the future. I stared at the water with a longing, I could feel the urging of my heart. I remembered a similar time, a long time ago in South Africa, when, after a day hike with a friend, a plunge pool presented itself. Then, as now, it was hard to resist temptation. Before I knew it, I was stripping off my t-shirt, Converse, socks and jeans and taking the plunge. I always thought it would be cold and it was, but I was glad of the refreshment. I didn't stay in the water more than perhaps a minute, the cold was already seeping down into my bones. It really was too cold and the current downstream quite swift, so I swam back to the rocks and exited promptly, drying and warming again under the rays of the afternoon sun.

Tongariro River - scene of a skinny dip

This morning I grew wings and flew and in the afternoon I plunged into the cold, clear water of a river. How many other days can offer opportunities such as these? This is why it is necessary to walk the path and to stay true to yourself and your dreams. There will come a time when I remember such a day and the memory of it will burn bright and bring a smile to my lips. I will know that when I had the chance, I chose to live my life in a way that was deliberate and in the way that suited me. I will know that I followed my heart and for that, I will be forever grateful for the chances I have been given. But more than that, I will be forever grateful for my heart.

_________________________

The Purpose Of My Life?

It's another hot, humid and sunny afternoon in Costa Rica.  I'm out on my bike, pedalling along the quiet roads, enjoying the rhythm of the ride, going no where in particular, content to be sitting on the saddle and to feel the cooling wind that tries to resist my passing.  I'm smiling, feeling carefree and happy, knowing that life at this moment is good.  A thought creeps into my mind. What if I were to do this everyday, to cycle from one place to another, my life on the bike and on the road?  To cycle and to travel, a long held dream that has reawakened in my heart.  Could I do that?

That was a day during October 2013.  I can remember the moment well, but not the date on which it occurred.  I was on the road between the village of Brasilito and the town of Huacas.  Three months later and I'm on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, sitting inside a rented apartment in Auckland, strewn across the living room floor are cycle clothing and camping equipment, and downstairs in the garage, hanging on a bike rack on the wall, is my rented touring bicycle.  That vague idea which had come to me, that resurgence of a once held dream, that longing to travel and to carry my life with me, the need for adventure and to push myself into the unknown, it has all become a waking reality.  It has become my purpose in life.

I get asked often about my life. What I am doing?  What I am going to do?  Why I do what I do?  I have attempted to explain it the best that I can.  I've attempted and I've failed.  After all, it makes no rational nor logical sense does it?  In the last eight years, my journey has taken me all around the world and I have experienced many things, the like of which I thought I could experience only in a book or on film.  I've tried my hand at certain things: I learned to dive and became a dive master; I worked as a project co-ordinator in telecommunications; I walked the streets as a funds collector for a charity; I enrolled at university and became a full-time student; I became a scuba diving instructor; I self published a couple of books.  My journey has taken me through seventeen different countries, in some of which I have enjoyed extended stays and called home for a while.  And now, I am beginning a bicycle tour.  What is going on?

Let me come back to something I wrote in an earlier paragraph: my purpose in life.  I don't have one.  At least, that is, I don't have one in the conventional sense.  As a man, it is my firm belief that my purpose in life is to become a husband, a father, and to raise my own family.  Due to circumstances, this has never happened for me and I drifted through my life searching for something that would fill the void that fatherhood left.  My career filled that gap for many years and I put all my effort and much of my free time into it.  If I was busy at work, then I could never have any time to think about the vacuum that existed away from it.  To be brutally honest, my life outside of work was empty of meaning.  What I did and who I was at the office came to define me.

But there was always something else lurking there.  A vagueness that was almost discernible through the foggy haze but not quite.  As if each time I reached out a hand to grasp hold of it, it pulled back and way from my outstretched fingers.  I thought it was elusive and I believed this until a chance meeting with a colleague (now a dear friend) who forced me to confront my true feelings.  Even then, I was reluctant to give credence to my thinking.  Like so many other people who have held similar thoughts, I shied away from it because it just didn't seem the right way, it wasn't the way that we are taught is correct, it went against conventional thinking and wisdom.

I was searching for some type of purpose in my life and I was not finding that purpose in what I did.  No amount of numbers on a spreadsheet, no amount of promotions at work, no matter what my salary, these gave me no sense of who I truly was as a person.  My life was bereft of meaning.  The epiphany moment occurred around the time of my thirty fifth birthday.  It was then that I came to the realisation that I was living the life of a married man, a family man, and that I was still single.  Why then, did I need to live that life, a life that could not give me my true purpose?  It no longer made any sense to me.  Instead, it seemed to me that the best thing I could do, was to do something different, and to seek a purpose in life for myself.  To go out into the unknown and to look for meaning in the life around me.  And if I was not to discover that purpose in my life, then at least I would have experienced something more, at least I would have taken a chance on life, and not lived out my existence sitting at a desk in front of a laptop screen, and always wondering if there was something more.

     

To answer the question of why do I do what I do, there would seem to be one clear answer - it gives me a purpose in life.  I must continue to live out my dreams until such time that I find the other purpose that I seek.  I truly believe that one day I will find that other elusive part of my life, but until then, I cannot sit and wait for it to come to me.  I must strive to fulfill my dreams, I must write a destiny for myself and if it comes to it, I want to know that when I look back upon my days, when I revisit the history of my life, that I did not sit idly by waiting.  I want to smile and to know that I stood up, that I walked out onto my path, and that I went in search of my purpose.  To try is all that truly matters.

~ ~ ~

It was not my intention to write this post today.  That is often how it happens though.  I set out with an idea of what I want to write and the moment that I let myself go, in the instant that my soul opens itself up, the real need to express myself comes to life.  This is why I enjoy writing and find it so very therapeutic.  I write for myself and in doing so, it is my absolute hope that my readers find something for themselves nestled within the words ~ Andy.

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My Life In 30Kg

The wind comes in gusts again and again.  I can hear it howling outside, as it races across the moor, carrying with it sheets of rain that hammer against the glass of my hotel window.  Out there, just a stone's throw across the road, lies the vast, barren wastelands of Dartmoor.  Inhospitable and wild, it's an empty, desolate place of rock, boggy marsh, babbling streams and tussocks of grass.  To know that it is a place where trees refuse to grow says much about it.  Winter on the moor, that's definitely not the place to be, so what am I doing here?

Inside the relative comfort of my hotel room, strewn out all across the floor, is my entire life.  I came here, down to the edge of Dartmoor, to stay in a cheap motel, specifically with the intention of organising my belongings.  It was a two pronged approach.  Firstly, staying at my parents house, sleeping on the living room floor, gave me no space whatsoever and I very much needed space to spread everything out.  Being a visual person, I needed to look upon my gear for my up-coming cycle tour of New Zealand, to pitch my tent (which I successfully accomplished using the bed as my base), to test my old sleeping bag with my new sleeping bag liner, and to ensure that I had everything that I needed.  It was my first chance to combine the old with the new, to finally merge all of my adventurous life into one single, unified kit.  The second need, and of equal, if not greater importance, was to examine everything that I own and to downsize and streamline yet again.

People have a way of accumulating things. I'm no different in that respect, although I have tried hard to limit my accumulations throughout my entire life.  I cannot explain why, but even as a child, I never liked to have clutter and too many things around me.  Perhaps, even back then, I felt the weight of it holding me down, keeping me in a place, when all I yearned for was the freedom to go and to leave whenever I wished it.  Eight years ago, I was doing exactly the same as now, going through the first and the hardest downsizing, only back then, I had an apartment full of possessions accumulated over thirty five years of life, items that I had firmly believed absolutely necessary to my life.

The way I have always approached possessions can perhaps be best summed up with a kettle.  That's not very sexy is it, but there it is.  A kettle.  I had the same kettle for fifteen years.  I'd had it since I had set up home with my first girlfriend at the age of twenty.  It worked, it did exactly what it was supposed to do, and it had never, not even once, let me down.  It was functional, it boiled water, exactly what a kettle is supposed to do.  It never occurred to me to change it.  I saw absolutely no reason to do so.  I came under intense pressure to change that kettle during those fifteen years and I resisted.  Why though?  Was I just being stubborn about it, or was there something far deeper going on?

The truth is that I have never been materialistic.  (Yes, okay, I admit I did once waste a lot of money on a flashy sports car, but that same car put a smile on my face every time I looked at it, I grinned like an idiotic monkey every time I turned the key and I heard the 5.0 litre V8 engine fire into life, and I never regretted owning it, nor the expense that went with that ownership - not even once.)  Possessions and ownership have never held much sway over me.  The process of downsizing actually came as a relief to me.  I was able to rid myself of this baggage that weighed me down, that held me in one place, and that took away my freedom.  That first time was the hardest.  Subsequent downsizing, or corrections as I now think of them, are much easier and completely necessary if I am to continue to lead the life that I wish to lead.  This is a rather difficult idea for some people to comprehend, since ownership and increasing our material wealth is what capitalism is all about and what society tells us to do.  Someone who does the opposite, someone who rejects what is at the core of our modern, economy led society, they must be crazy - right?

Well, if I am crazy, then I am happy to be crazy, because being crazy has given me a head full of the most wonderful memories and experiences, and allowed me to meet some of the most amazing and inspiring people.  I could never have achieved that if I had maintained my previous lifestyle.  I remember one day looking at the books on my book shelf and feeling proud to see all of these important novels that I had read.  I thought it made me the person who I was, I saw them as defining my life.  How naive I was!  How could I think that what I owned was more important that what I was inside, more important than my heart and my soul?  Besides which, what did it matter if I owned the book I had read, or if I had borrowed it?  I had still read and enjoyed the book in either case, and people still saw the same person in front of them.  I associated the ownership of the item as part of the experience and I found that ownership gave me joy and a sense of well-being, albeit a short term one that never lasted more than a few days or weeks at most.  I had never realised or known back then that life is simply an experience, and it is the experience of life that brings the greatest joys and the memories that will last an eternity.  How could I possibly have known it?  Only by casting aside that old life was I able to discover the secret, to find enlightenment, and to experience the epiphanies that would come from being free.

Now, in this hotel room, I have been driven to downsize once more.  It is the first time in over two years that I am with all of my worldly possessions.  During that time, some of my non-essential items such as winter clothing, important documents and sentimental items, have sat in a suitcase in my parents attic.  My thinking has been that if I do not think of a thing, if I find no reason to look at it, to touch it, nor to hold it, then it has no purpose in my life.  I have to be tough about it, I am driven to be ruthless in that regard.  I have given away and discarded much of what I once thought of as, with Gollum like reasoning, being precious to me.  The truth for me at least, is that my possessions allow me to live my life, the life that I want to create, rather than my need to live to sustain my possessions.  I am very cold about it.  Only certain, irreplaceable items make the cut.  Old letters from deceased family members, my travel journals, certain photographs (soon to be digitised), some greetings cards that hold sentimental value.  Other than important documents that I must keep for legal reasons, nothing else remains.   

30 kilograms or 66 pounds.  That is the checked baggage allowance with Emirates airlines, with whom I am flying to New Zealand.  It sounds like a lot, but it is not.  Not when it is necessary for me to carry around the 16kg of scuba diving equipment, necessary for my being able to work as a dive instructor.  That doesn't leave very much for anything else.  With the purpose of my trip to New Zealand being a cycle tour, I need to pack a tent, sleeping bag and other camping equipment, as well as specific items for cycling I have never needed to carry previously.  It is going to be tight.  With no scales, I don't yet know how I have done.  My guess is that I am still over the allowance.  I know that I will need to leave behind two small backpacks with my parents - those are the legal documents and sentimental items.  That's all I wish to leave behind. I've contacted someone about scanning my old printed photographs, that will reduce the size and weight some more.  I've been in the local library and I've scanned some of the teaching materials that I need.  I have some other papers that I will scan this week and then discard.  Every little helps.      

Life it seems, at least this modern life, requires us to keep certain papers, to maintain a fixed address.  I would like to be completely free but that, I know, is not possible.  Bank accounts and credit cards allow me to travel, they make life easier and for that, I must pay the price with a little of my freedom.  Besides which, there are certain items that I would hate to lose, that are irreplaceable in the emotional value that they hold.  I must have something to pass on down the line, something of my family and my past.  I don't have children yet, but I firmly believe that I will, and when that day comes, well then I believe I might just need to have a life that weighs more than 30kg and fills more space than one large backpack and one medium sized suitcase.  Until then, I'm flying as free as I'm able.

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What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

That's the question that has come to my mind over the last few days.  What have I gotten myself into?  Now I think about it, and I was thinking about it on my walk over here to the cafe, perhaps the question is not so much what, but rather why?  Why have I gotten myself into this situation?  I guess before we could begin to answer the question, it is necessary to define the subject matter.

It's Sunday 29 December.  This means that I am now less than two weeks away from my embarkation on my next adventure.  Thirteen days more and I will once again leave England after yet another short stay, a stay that is either too long or too short - I can never quite decide which - and I'll head off to New Zealand to begin my cycle tour adventure.  In less than three weeks, I should be on the road, spinning those pedals that turn the cranks that turn the wheels, that will speed me along the roads.  Exciting isn't it?  A dream realised.  Surely this is the epitome of what life is all about.  Throwing oneself into the unknown and the challenge of never being sure of what each day will bring.  It does not matter how many times I have done this now, each time the departure date approaches, and for some reason that tick to thirteen days seems to be the event trigger more than any other, I begin to grow concerned, I start to fret about what it is that I am doing, and why I am going to do it.

I believe it is the same for everyone.  No matter what they will tell you, no matter how gung-ho and cock sure they appear to be, I have little doubt that underneath there lies a swirling, tumultuous flow of worry, a constant and raging stream of concerns, that are held in check only by the dam of outer calmness.  Columbus, Cook, Scott, Shackleton, Earhart, Hilary, Armstrong (of the Neil variety), Yeager, Baumgartner and any one else you may wish to include in such exulted company, I can guarantee that although they may have appeared to be the perfect picture of composed, mill pond surface calmness, below that exterior lurked the questions, the fears, the doubts, and the constant nagging of why am I doing this and what have I gotten myself into?

It's only natural.  I know that.  I also know that it is going to be okay.  My own adventure is nothing compared to some, but it is my own adventure, my own decision to step outside of my comfort zone, to go off in exploration and in search, to confront my fears, to extend myself, to find out who I am, to know what mettle lurks under my flesh.  No matter how seemingly small and insignificant your own adventure may appear to some, to the person at the centre of that story, it is the greatest undertaking in the history of humanity.  Imagine for a moment a person who suffers from acute agoraphobia.  To this person, even opening the front door of their house can seem the most daunting decision to take, let alone stepping across the threshold and leaving the secure confines of their home.

Road To Nowhere by Talking Heads has just begun to play on the sound system of cafe.  Is it coincidence that I happen to love this song?  Doesn't road to nowhere sum up my journey, all of our journeys?  We're walking our paths, thinking that we are headed some place special, striving to get to a certain point, mulling over decisions that we believe to be of the utmost importance, but in reality, we're all headed to exactly the same place, no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try.  That may lead you to ask, well then, why bother at all?  And the answer to that my friend is that it is the journey that is the making, it is the space between two places and the manner in which we cross that space that counts.  It is that crossing between points that generates experiences and memories and those are the very things that define us, that change us, that allow us to discover who we are, who we were truly meant to be.  It is the crossing of this distance, no matter how great, no matter how small, that reveals our inner truth and shows us the true path.

Oddly enough, the thought generated by that song has answered the questions hasn't it?  What did I get myself into and why have I gotten myself into it?  Answer: because if I do not, then I will never know my answer.  If I do not, I will never grow my soul.  If I do not, I will never experience the magic that is created when a person goes off in search of adventure and daring.  If I do not, I will reach the end of my days and I will wonder what could have been.  If I do not, I will be left with a regret, knowing full well that I had the means necessary to achieve my dreams and I chose an early death instead.  And why would anyone chose an early death when there is so much life out there, within your grasp, when all you have to do is to stretch out an arm, reach out with your finger tips and grab a hold?  I choose to grasp onto life.  I choose to see the miracles and the magic of a life lived.  And just as Renton said at the end of Trainspotting, "Choose life." Amen Renton, amen.

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The Boxing Day Miracles

There are some days which are almost too perfect to be true.  These are the days when every element combines to create magical moment after magical moment.  A day when it feels as though miracles are occurring all around and the air is full of hope, happiness and expectation.  Today it seems, was destined to be one such day.

I cannot say why such days occur.  All I can tell you is that they do.  It was as though my inner feelings were reflected in perfect symmetry by the material world that surrounded me.  The day started well.  The winter sun was shining in a sky bereft of a single cloud, and although that sun is only a few days past its most distant from the Northern Hemisphere, there was a warmth in those rays, that hurtled towards the Earth at the speed of light, to strike at this particular spot on the planet, basking my parents home town in all of its radiant glory.  That is enough to make me feel a deep and profound sense of happiness well up from within.  That is enough to make me smile on the inside.  That is enough to know that there is goodness in the universe.

My parents home town of Bognor Regis is fortunate enough to benefit from some great feats of Victorian ingenuity and foresight.  The best of these is the promenade that runs parallel to the sea, and stretches for a distance of some 2.5 miles, from the western end of the town's reaches at Aldwick, to its eastern most at Felpham.  This is where Victorians would flock to the coast to take in the medicinal air of the sea.  Today, it was no different.  People of all types, all shapes, all sizes, all nationalities, all religions flocked to the promenade, to walk alongside the ocean, to enjoy the rays of sun, and to take in some fresh sea air.  Perhaps it was the time of year, it was the day after Christmas after all (the day known as Boxing Day in England), or perhaps it was just that for three days before today, England had been suffering from continual bouts of strong winds and rain and very little glimpses of  the sun, but whatever it was, there was something magical that hung in the air, that swirled in and around the people.

Bognor Regis Promenade circa 1934

© Standard.co.uk

It was this something magical that created a common bond between everyone.  Whether they were as aware of it as I was, I could not tell, but one thing was certain, each one of us who walked along the promenade did so with souls that were joined together with one single purpose.  We combined the energy of our hearts and we became one people.  I felt it.  To me, it was palpable.  I could discern the mystical lines of energy and I am sure that if I wished it, I could have reached out my hand and grasped at individual strands.  These were the fibres of an ancient, primeval energy, that joined together in unison to create a force whose whole was far greater than the sum of each individual strand.  As I walked along the promenade on this day, I knew that I was witnessing a miracle, I was part of the magic, I was contributor and witness both.  I could not help but to smile and to laugh and to engage with those that I saw.  I wanted everyone to know that I was there, that I was with them and that I too was part of the miracle that was taking place all around.

Later in the day, I walked with my parents and my sister across the South Downs of southern England, across the fields clogged with mud and puddles, footprints and hoof prints mixed in an almost indistinguishable mess.  We were walking in the hills, near to the village of Slindon, West Sussex.  It was one of those afternoons.  Did I know that further magic was in the air as I spoke with my father and mentioned how amazing it would be to see some wild deer running free across the fields?  How could I have known?  I am not, as far as I am aware, gifted (cursed?) with foresight.  However, this area of the South Downs is populated by deer and although it is not exactly rare to see deer, it is not a particularly common occurrence either.  Wild deer tend to shy away from humans.

At the top of one particular hill sits Nore Folly, an odd looking structure built in the mid eighteenth century.  A folly is an oddity of its time.  It was a non-functional structure, often built in the Gothic style by the land owners of the day as a show of wealth.  Our path today took us to the top of this hill and up to the folly itself. At the sight of the folly, we were afforded glorious views out across the flat lands of the flood plains, that stretch from the base of the hills, all the way to the line of the coast, some five miles as the crow flies.  The waters of the English Channel appeared to be in flame and were almost too bright to look upon, as they reflected the late afternoon sun.

Nore Folly at Slindon

 © dailytelepgraph.co.uk

Looking down the hill to our left, across the furrows of the ploughed winter fields bare of crop, down to the dell below, there was a movement.  Bounding from the cover of trees came a deer, then another, leaping across the fields, moving ever further away, until they abruptly changed direction and swung around to head up the field and straight towards our position.  This would have been enough to confirm the magic of the day, but there was to be more.  Two deer became three, became four, then five, six, seven, eight!  The first two deer, perhaps braver than the rest, had been followed a few bounds behind by a further six deers, all of whom were now bounding their way up the hill and straight towards us!  Eight wild deer raced past us, cold air vapourising from their nostrils, leaving us standing silently in spellbound rapture.

This had truly been a day when magic was created.  Or perhaps that magic continues to exist all around us every single moment of every single day.  Only our cluttered lives, our rushing from one place to another, our cocooned lifestyles, that have become ever more disconnected from the natural world, perhaps it is these things that prevent us from experiencing this magic on a daily basis.  When we unplug, when we allow ourselves the time to experience and to enjoy nature, then the possibilities for magic are created.  Step outside of your door, take a walk, open your heart and your soul, and allow yourself to breathe in the magic.  Let your eyes see the world as it truly is, a world that is full of miracles, just waiting for you.

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The End Is Only The Beginning

The end is really only the beginning.  That's certainly one way to look at it.  As one moment ends, we find ourselves already in the midst of another.  Countless millions of moments that together make up a life story.  One moment is all it takes to change the world, to alter the path of destiny.  One moment, one opportunity, one life.  It always comes down to that one single moment, a point at which your future is being decided, even if you are not aware of the consequences that surround you, of the swirling mass of possibilities that are lining up, taking order, falling into place.  And on we go, oblivious, until with hindsight, we look back down the road, and there, basking in all its glory, finally revealed to even the most blinkered of eyes, is that one pivotal moment that shook your world, that altered the course of your destiny and that brought you to the point at which you are now.  Sitting in a cafe in a seaside town in England, on a cold, wet, and dreary December day, staring out of the window at all of the activity in the street outside.

My time in Costa Rica has ended.  In fact, it was over on 5 December, as the plane hurtled down the runway of San Jose airport, as the wings lifted with the air velocity and pressure differential, and the wheels touched Costa Rican tarmac for the last time that day.  Airborne and with it, my future changed, it shifted.  Plans that had been made started to become a reality, thoughts, electronic pulses stored in my brain, turned into tangible occurrences.  This journey across the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans represented both an ending and a beginning.  This is life.

In death comes life.  Perhaps, with it being the day before Christmas, my thoughts turn to Jesus, which makes me think of the Resurrection.  "In death, I become life." (I just Googled that phrase in the belief that someone must have said it before, but my search brings forth no such findings.  So, I am taking it as my own creation.)  In other words, I must die before life comes again.  That is the way of our dreams.  We realise one dream and that dream must end before another can come to fruition. 

I have died many times in my life, I have experienced many endings.  With each cycle, I have changed, perhaps imperceptibly so, but I know that the person who began this odyssey into the unknown is not the same person who sits here in this cafe today.  How could I be?  I have seen and experienced too much.  I have opened myself up, I have given myself over to life, to the possibilities of something more, I have witnessed miracles, known people and cultures, suffered, cried, loved, and laughed.  Every thing and every person I have ever had contact with is some how now inside of me.  Maybe this is how we grow as people?  We internalise everything with which we come into contact and every emotion with which we experience.  We take a part of it all, a part of life and we bring that within.  At the same time, we are imparting something of ourselves to each person, to each experience.  Our soul is nourished and in turn nourishes those who we meet.  With each experience, we leave behind a trace of our soul, a signature that lasts an eternity, intrinsically linked to the time, to the place and to the participants.

Maybe what I am talking about today is the soul of life.  What if all of life shared a single soul?  One elemental force that linked every thing to every thing else.  People, animals, birds, fish, trees, shrubs, grasses, oceans, rivers, rocks, mountains, sand, clouds, rain, sun, moon, stars, air, Earth.  It's all of life in perfect balance, the soul is one, it is whole.  It leads me to something I have written before, "I am in everything and everything is in me."  I am in no doubt that when Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life" (John 14:6), what he was referring to was that every single one of us has the power within us.  In the heart lies the truth.  In the heart lies the way.  In the heart lies the life.  It is in our hearts that the power to become all that we were born to be is to be found.

Well, as always, I begin to write, unsure of where I will go and something always comes.  The flow of the mind is often a surprise to me and that is why I love to sit in a cafe and write.  This will probably be my last post of 2013 and I look forward to continuing the journey in 2014.  I hope that you will stay with me as we each travel down our own unique path.  It all begins again on 1 January. A turning of the page. A new chapter to be written.  An ending and a beginning.

Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year to you all.

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Broken Promises And A Change Of Plans

Never before have I experienced a betrayal of my trust, kindness and openness, which has left me feeling both stupid and foolish, as I have in the last days.  To say I'm flummoxed would be putting it mildly.  It has not only affected me on an emotional level, it affects all of my plans for New Zealand.  I've been left needing to make cancellations and re-bookings, and to rearrange my plans and itinerary accordingly, incurring some inevitable financial loss.  But what of the cost to my heart and my ability to openly trust in people?  Is that a far greater price that I am going to pay?

Everything happened in a whirlwind.  We met, we connected and we began the process of getting to know each other.  Very quickly, we fell into talking openly and candidly about our lives and our past experiences.  It was clear that we shared much in common, in particular a love of travel and the way that we viewed life, and the more that we became acquainted and got to know each other, I couldn't help but wonder how bizarre it was that we could possibly be so alike.  It was as if this woman was my twin, my mirror image in character, thought and life experience.  This was the basis on which we decided to meet again, to become travel companions, and after much discussion of possible destinations, New Zealand was agreed on as our destination.

Very quickly, everything was set, the plans were made and the itinerary worked out.  Between us, all of the key components were booked.  Transportation: buses, ferry, and car rental.  Accommodation: hotels, motels and campsites.  Activities: hiking, swimming with wild dolphins, skydiving, kayaking, ice climbing.  All of it was reserved.  Despite being separated by both time and distance, it had been an easy process to put together, making use of internet messaging, email and Skype calls, each one of us progressing an item while the other slept.  More evidence of our compatibility.  This was going to be an epic adventure, a dream trip and this time, I neither of us would be making it alone.

Then, completely abruptly and with no warning, it stopped.  One day, everything was fine and then it wasn't.  One day we were in communication, discussing through messages which type of sleeping bag would be most suitable, and then nothing.  Not even the crackle of static.  Just absolute silence.  A silence that lasted for two weeks.  No explanation, no word, nothing.  It was as though she had fallen off the face of the planet.  I attempted to make contact, to make sure that she was okay, that nothing sinister had occurred, but there was no response.  I grew concerned, who wouldn't?  She was living and working in one of the world's most dangerous countries.  Anything could have happened to her.  After two weeks of this silence, I wrote another email asking that she could please let me know she was okay, and if she could also let me know if our planned trip to New Zealand was on or off?  Finally I received an email response.  It contained one word: Off.

It is hard to fathom what has happened and I am not going to try.  I have some ideas but to try to rationalise this and make sense of it is a waste of time.  I will find no answer, I will never know.  The facts are the facts.  I do not believe it is healthy for me to try to figure this out.  The old me would have done exactly that.  I would have languished in the hurt, sorrow, self-pity and self-loathing.  I would have replayed conversations and actions over and over and I would have looked for signs and hidden meanings in them.  I would have clung on in desperation to the past, burying my fingers in its cracks, feeling the need to hold on to all that once was, as if to let go, would be to fall into a void of nothingness, in which I would lose myself.

Even during the two weeks of silence, I was surprised at my relative calmness.  I've experienced this wall of silence before, I've known women who have raised protective barriers around themselves, shutting out their heart, keeping it from becoming hurt.  When this happened, I would become like a caged animal, prowling, snarling, testing for weaknesses, not understanding why the bars prevented me from reaching my goal.  It would frustrate me, cause anger, and it would drive me a little insane.  The longer it continued, the more focused on it I would become.  This time there was none of that.  I'm not suggesting the silence was for those same reasons, but whatever the cause of it, the affect is the same.  I did not overreact, I just let things be, content to continue with my life, making the plans for my cycle tour of New Zealand, working my last days in Costa Rica, carrying on with my life.  The times that I did reach out and try to make contact, were from a genuine concern for her safety.     

What have I learned from all of this?  That is what I look for now.  It is more important that I take from this episode of my life some lesson and meaning for my life, than it is to spend time looking back at what might have been.  Perhaps that is the first of my realisations.  I no longer dwell in the past.  Since I began my true journey and since setting out my thoughts in this blog, I am more focused on the present moment and in what lies ahead.  My days of looking backwards are gone.  The past brought me to now, but it is in the now that I am able to make a difference, a difference that will affect my future to come.  The focus needs to be on now, this moment in which I exist, and by living that moment, I take one more step along my path.  Only the dead reside in the past because they have no future.

In that past, I would have looked for an action that I took, some words that I had spoken, even some words that I had left unsaid, and I would have felt at fault for what had happened, as if in some way, I was to blame.  But how could it be my fault and even more than that, why should it be my fault?  Every person has free will.  Every person is an extremely complex mix of experiences, emotions and inherited traits.  I am no different, just as you are no different.  If someone goes quiet and introspective, that doesn't mean that I am the cause of it.  If someone stops communicating and disappears, it is not my fault.  I have spent far too much of my life in the belief that I am no good and as a result of this, I have assumed myself to be the cause of every problem, every moment of silence, every pause in conversation, every miscommunication, every misunderstanding.  And I'll take this thought further.  If someone is not interested in me, if someone does not love me in the way that I love them, then that cannot be my fault either.  All I can be is myself.  It is either a right match or it is not.  It has never been, nor will it ever be, a fault on my part. 

That is what I have learned, but where does all of this leave me and my own plans?  I am still going ahead with my cycle tour of New Zealand.  That has not changed, it was always my own adventure and as such, will remain my own adventure.  I need to make changes in light of what has happened to dates and times, and to my planned route.  Everything has been affected by what has happened.  The details will follow in a new post shortly.  My immediate focus has needed to be on fixing the mess that was created by the broken promise of someone that I trusted.  That done, I can turn my attention back to bringing my dream into reality.  A dream that was always about me, a bike and the road.

I'll finish this post with one last thought.  It is a vow for life, a vow that I make now, and for each day that is to come:-

"I do not need someone else to make my life complete.  I do not need the love of another to make me whole.  For I am love.  I was born perfect and I shall remain perfect.  Since I already walk my path with love, I do not walk my path to seek love.  I walk my path to seek life.  And it is in life that I shall find all that I wish." ~ Andrew M.Smith

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Pledge Of Allegiance To Life

This morning, I happened upon a Facebook post displaying the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America.  The post was requesting citizens of the US to get behind the reciting of this pledge once more, as it has been fading out of use in the school system.  While I have absolutely no problem with the reciting of such a pledge to flag and country, and neither with the singing of national anthems for that matter, it did make me wonder whether perhaps it was now time that people dispensed with the notion of flag and country, and instead embraced a new kind of pledge: a pledge of allegiance to life. 

Let's face it, this planet on which we live has shrunk.  With the rise of commercial air travel and the dawning of the digital age, our world has gotten a whole lot smaller.  In fact, with space travel and the ability to understand the known universe, we now know that actually this planet of ours we call Earth, is just one incredibly, insignificant item in a vast cosmos, a cosmos that is littered with billions upon billions of other planets, stars, asteroids, comets and galaxies.  Take a moment and imagine a white sand beach stretching off into the distance, and then imagine a single, solitary grain of sand.  That one grain would be Earth, and all the other grains would represent all of the other objects in the universe.

But there is a very remarkable thing about this planet and it is one thing that sets it apart from every other known object in the universe - it supports life.  Our planet is a miracle.  As far as we know, it is unique.  Probability theorists would have us believe that the chances are high that other planets must exist that will also support life forms, but as yet, that is speculation and remains only a theory.  Earth is amazing, it is incredible.  Space travel has allowed humans to become the first animals to view their planet from afar.  And what a beautiful sight it is too.  Every aspect of this planet is extraordinary.  The mighty oceans; the lofty peaks of snow covered mountains; vast valleys and canyons; barren deserts and wastelands; jungles and forests; waterfalls and snaking rivers; frozen ice caps and glaciers; plains, prairies and steppes; lakes and fjords; seasonal changes, weather patterns, wind, rain, snow, hot blistering sun, clouds... It is incredible.  And I didn't even mention a single animal, fish or bird yet.  The sheer number of species of life form is staggering and scientists are still, even now, when we think we know so much, discovering new species and even in places that have no right to support life, like deep in the ocean, by volcanic thermal vents.  If I were to chose one single word to describe Earth it would be this: miracle.       

When you view the Earth from space, there are no visible borders between countries, no delineation lines that can be seen.  Country is a human invention, a term used to describe a group of people that occupy a certain parcel of land, governed by one single group.  The same is true for race and religion.  These are notions and concepts that exist only in the mind and as such, that thinking can be altered.  It is time to let go of these old ideas and it is time to embrace the new.  I propose a new view of life and I call it simply: One.

One planet

One life

One people

One heart

One soul

One spirit

One.

With this in mind, I believe that it is now time for a new kind of pledge, a pledge that unites all peoples of Earth, all nations.  It's a pledge to life:-

"I pledge allegiance to the Earth and to the universe in which it exists. To all of life, I make the promise to always protect and nurture you, to the best of my abilities, to see fairness and justice prevail. I will take responsibility for everything that I do, and bear all consequences with humility. I acknowledge and understand that everything is one life and one life only, interconnected, interwoven, and intrinsically linked, and as such, I will make good on my duty of care to all of life, until the ending of my days.  For all things are One."

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Barbaric Yawps And Why They Are Absolutely Necessary

The sun beats down upon me, it's relentless heat seeps into my skin, causing droplets of perspiration to form on my brow, on my neck, on my chest.  I'm breathing hard now, sucking great gulps of air into my lungs, fighting for my breath, in desperate need of oxygen.  I'm standing up on my pedals, my legs continue to push hard, one, two, one, two, over and over, as I sway the bike from side to side, in the rhythmic dance of man and machine versus gravity.  I look up the road ahead and finally I am able to see the crest of the hill approaching, tanterlisingly close now, I can sense that this hill is conquered, and the feeling spurs me on.  I push harder, dance a little more and I'm there!  The hill is mine at last but there is no time for celebration because now begins the wild exhilaration of racing down the other side.  As I hurtle down, bent low over the frame and handlebars, I sweep around a bend at great speed, and as I do, I let out a great yell, an untamed roar, an expression of freedom and of deviance.  I feel a deeply intense moment of joy and well-being, as my soul soars and my heart flies free. 

In this moment, when I yelled out, I was experiencing a moment of absolute love.  Love of life, love of my path, love of the possibilities, love of myself.  As this wave of love washing over me, I could not help myself.  I felt a strong impulse to shout out, to let the world around me know that I was in a moment of pure and unadulterated happiness.  I was reminded of a couple of lines that Walt Whitman wrote, in his poem entitled, Song of Myself and that feature in the movie, Dead Poets Society:-

"I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."

I understand you truly Walt.  These are the moments when heart and soul are completely free and unshackled from the physical body.  These are the moments when a primeval sense of pure joy and freedom engulf you, sweep through you.  You transcend the physical and become your true spiritual self.  These feelings do not come from without, they come from within.  They surge through you, an unstoppable force that no one can control.  These feelings are your true soul, you true self, your true power and beauty.  In these moments, you truly become a god.  For in these moments you are the mountain, the river, the lake, the forest, the valley, the ocean, the bird, the fish, the beast, the clouds, the wind, the sun, the moon, and the stars.  In these moments, your spirit returns to the centre of all things, and all things become one thing only.  And that one thing is love.

I had experienced another moment before this, a moment that was the complete opposite.  A moment of incredible deep serenity, peace and calm.  I had spied a rope tied to the bough of a tree, with a large knot on the lower end, just perfect for swinging on.  Grasping the rope in my hands, I stepped backwards, one, two, three paces, then ran and launched myself skywards, pulling my legs up and locking them around the rope in a tight grip.  Whoosh! Back and forth I swung, slowly twisting around one way and then the other.  I lent back, taking the weight of my body against my arms, pushing my legs forward, and I gazed up at the tree top above.  It was mesmerising.  Through the small gaps in the foliage of the leaves, the sun broke through with a shimmering light of radiant brilliance, glittering and sparkling like a million diamonds.  As I swung, so the angle changed and the light appeared to dance, reflecting off the deep green of the leaves.  Here was a beauty that was hard to surpass, here was a miracle of nature playing out above me, here, in this moment, I felt blessed, and I knew I was witnessing a special moment.  An upwelling of joy came to me and I felt such pleasure, lost in that moment, a moment of sun, leaves, bough, rope and me.  I wonder now, as I think back and picture it once more in my mind, whether the sun looked down upon me, and felt the same joy that I felt in that moment, to see a heart that was so full of love.

During this one morning, I beheld two very different experiences, and one thing linked them both.  Through letting go of our conscious thought, we can find moments of intense emotional pleasure.  Moments when we are able to connect to everything that surrounds us.  In these moments, we transcend the physical and we enter the place where our true spiritual self resides.  These are moments when we feel an undeniable connection to everything that surrounds us, a connection with life itself.  When we experience these moments, our hearts journey to the centre of the universe, to the place where time and creation itself began.  And in that place, in the great heart of all things, is found the one thing that connects every other thing and makes all of life possible.  That one thing is love.

The next time that you find yourself in such a situation, in a place where you feel an intense connection to all that surrounds you, when you know that your heart and soul are flying free, do not be afraid, give voice to your own barbaric yawp, share the moment, and shout it out across the roofs of the world.

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A Poem Called Me

This morning, words came to me in a fast flow that, from one single broken sentence, quickly evolved itself into a poem.  I called it simply, Me.  These words flowed straight from my heart and fell from my fingertips in a cascade of droplets.  Perhaps here, I am, revealed on this page, my simpleness thrown wide open to all.  I hope you will like it.

Me

I am

Truly

An enigma

All things

Are found in me

And at the heart

There I lie

The real me

The true me

One heart

One soul

One life

One path

One love

One

Like all things

The beginning

The end

Complete and whole

Me.

  _________________________

 

Eight Years And Still Going Strong

It is the beginning of October 2005.  I do not yet know it, but my life is about to change forever.  There is an idea in my head, there is an opportunity to do something completely different in my life.  Perhaps it is a fools opportunity, but it remains an opportunity nonetheless.  In one hand, I have everything that I wanted: great job and career, business travel, nice apartment, sports car, platinum cards, no debts.  I did not come by this easily, I had to work extremely hard to achieve it, to have a little luck on my side, and to strive forward purposefully.  And now, I sit in that same apartment, staring out across the city, crushed under a leaden sky, to the cathedral spire that rises so majestically to the heavens, and I contemplate leaving it all behind, throwing it all away on some whimsical chance of adventure, to go backpacking to South East Asia.  Was I out of my mind?  Eight years later, I know the answer.

Why would anyone in their right mind even contemplate doing such a thing?  The answer to that question is that I believe they would not.  You see, decisions such as this are not made in the head by someone who is thinking rationally and logically.  A decision like this is made in the heart, and as such, it defies logic, since it was made with love.  I turned my back and walked away from a life that offered me financial security and stability, that offered me a pension plan, the chance of early retirement, healthcare, paid vacations, and other benefits.  I held in my hand the kind of life to which we are taught to aspire towards by our parents, our teachers, and our governments, that we are sold on a daily basis by advertisers and the media, the life that society as a whole, has decided is the right kind of life, the successful kind of life.  My problem, if that's what it is was, was that my heart held a very different view of what it deemed to be a success in life. 

I think this is a very important point.  Not everyone shares the same dream and that is a good thing.  Some people are born to be doctors, nurses, teachers, farmers, priests and many other occupations besides.  You know these people because they are the ones who exude passion for what it is they do.  I was not born to sit behind a computer, to stare at spreadsheets, no matter how important the decisions my interpretations of the data might be.  I had no passion for what it was that I did.  I just happened to be good at it and to thrive on the sense of importance and belonging that it gave to me.  These were nothing more than false idols and in my heart, I knew it.  I always had.  I didn't want to sit and discuss business at the restaurant, on the plane, in the airport lounge, on a Sunday evening teleconference.  I wanted to be away, to be free, to shake off the costume and the facade I wore and to be my true self again.  The further my career progressed, the more invested I was, the harder that became.  I saw my colleagues and I regarded them almost in an out of body way, as if I was not really there, I was looking on remotely.  These were, on the outside at least, different creatures to me.  Perhaps I was the wolf in sheep's clothing and they were the genuine article.  Perhaps, now that I think about it, they were exactly the same as I was, they too wore their masks, recited well rehearsed lines, and acted out their own part of the play.  Maybe they saw me in the exact same way that I saw them? I never thought about it in that way before.  But I saw them as company men and company women and I was not one of them.  I was different, I knew that I would break away from it, I felt it within me, had known it for so long, for too long, and I simply waited for the right moment, the right opportunity.  Whilst I waited, I positioned my life in such a way that when the opportunity came, I would have no reason to say no.

In the late summer of 2005, that opportunity arrived.  As the words were voiced to me one evening down at the pub, over a pint of the black stuff, I knew the answer without a moment of hesitation or doubt.  Here was the chance to make a change, to have an adventure, the likes of which I had only dreamed.  A few weeks later, under pressure to make a business trip to Chicago, to attend an important client meeting, I found myself talking with my boss on the telephone and I heard myself resign from my job.  What had I done?  I knew that even though I had resigned and was working out my notice period, I could get back in again.  I knew I was well respected and liked, that all I had to say was that I had made a mistake, and everything would go back to how it was before.  But I never did.  Even after I left, during the period I was selling all of my material possessions in readiness for my adventure, I still felt sure they would take me back, it was still not too late.  I could cancel the ticket, call up my old boss, say sorry, negotiate my way back in.  The thought did occur to me, it was just not as strong a pull as the pull of adventure.  I was finally out, standing on the verge of something new, something terrifying and I was about to find out whether my dream was just a fool's wandering mind and nothing more.

I gave up everything I had known, I took away all the securities of family, home, comfort, income, and known routine and forced myself into a life unknown.  I had a round the world plane ticket that would take me from London to Bangkok, to Sydney, to Auckland and then back to London.  I had a place to stay in Bangkok for my first few nights, with a friend of my sister.  Other than that, I had no plan, no idea where I was going to go, no idea what I was really doing.  In many ways, this is exactly what I wanted.  I didn't want to know.  Not because I was afraid of it but rather because I wanted to live on the edge, to go from place to place and have my first priorities those of food, water and shelter.  I wanted to get back to the basic needs of humanity, to throw off everything else, and to see what exactly there was inside of me when I exposed myself completely to life.  And so I did.

My adventure would unfold in a random, rather haphazard fashion, until at some point in time a few months later, my heart found the very thing for which it had always sought: a paradise island of white sand and palms, a turquoise ocean that lapped at its shores, wooden huts on stilts close to the waters edge.  A picture postcard version of my heaven.  I discovered like minded people, I found myself with fellow wanders and adventurers.  And in this heaven, I discovered the thing that would change my life again, I discovered scuba diving.  But more than this, I found a place where I could be completely and utterly free, where I was able to be my true self, to indulge myself in my fantasies, to get up close to nature and to witness her miracles, a place where I discovered the meaning of life.  That place was under the ocean.

In scuba diving, I found my passion.  I discovered something that no one had ever talked to me of doing before.  Had someone recognised my love of the ocean, of being in the ocean, of playing around down at the beach, then perhaps they might have suggested it to me, but being from England, and despite living at the seaside, scuba was not something I knew, other than on some old Jacques Cousteau documentary.  I had to take a chance on life in order to make this discovery.  If I had not, perhaps I would still be looking for my thing, perhaps I would now be sitting in an office, spreadsheet in front of me, jiggling numbers, and not writing a blog post from my bed in Costa Rica, with the sound of early morning calls from the birds as company.

Now here I am, eight years later and I am still going strong.  Eight years of dreams and adventures.  I returned back to England after Asia and four months later, I was sitting in a lecture theatre on campus at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand, for my first ever lecture.  I graduated three years later with a bachelors degree in Information Systems and an A grade average across all eighteen papers that I sat.  On another whim, I travelled to South Africa, where I rekindled my love of scuba diving and there, made the decision to become an instructor.  A decision that brought me across the Atlantic, to the Caribbean and to Central America.  In the process of all that has happened, I made perhaps the biggest discovery of them all: I found my true self, and I came to an understanding of my life, of who I am.  I still do not know what the future holds in store for me, no one can ever truly know that answer, and I do not wish to know, since that is the mystery and adventure of life. 

So, eight years later, was I out of my mind?  The answer to that question is an unequivocal yes.  Completely and utterly.  You see, I had to be out of my mind so that I could accomplish all that was required.  I used to be described as being headstrong and stubborn, but that was never the truth.  The truth of my life is that I am heartstrong and for me, that is what has made all of the difference, that is what has allowed me to go on this voyage of discovery.  Of course I was out of my mind, there can be no doubt of that, because I was in another place entirely.  I was in my heart. And there I shall remain.

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