To Find True Freedom

We get used to things. I’ve discussed habits probably as much as anything else on here but this is slightly different. This would be more about adapting. We adapt to our environment then. When we stay in one place or in one environment long enough it becomes normal and we find a way to at the very least survive. In the extreme you could have someone going from a position of power and wealth to one of poverty and subjugation, think of any successful class based revolution for example. If they didn’t end up getting their head chopped off, end up in front of a firing squad or find a way of smuggling themselves out of the country; there is a good chance they would have to either adapt to their new way of live or die. That then is an extreme example and for me right now I am as far from that as I can think. I have adapted to my surroundings though, my admittedly comfortable surroundings.

For me this adaptation has been more about a change in a way of life. Having spent ten years as a traveller living wild and being free – that is the version my romanticised ego would like to portray – I found myself in this little village by the seaside. It was only supposed to be a couple of months, the winter at most with spring bringing new adventures. There is no need to go over this years events but as I’ve previously discussed they have been habit changing to say the least. Now though I potentially change these new habits again and see whether further ones are created or old ones return. Today is Friday, on Sunday I leave my home by the sea.

Undoubtedly there has been a lot I’ve enjoyed about life here. I’m beside the sea and when not rammed with summer tourists it’s slow and chilled out. It is though a bit backwards and insular which is enough to push me away, but it has also shown me enough to imagine a new way of life is possible. There were many times in my past travelling in which I openly admitted to being exhausted and tired of constantly moving and packing but I also really enjoyed the discovery and constant new in front of my eyes. I’m still after all this time like a child when I see something previously unseen. This time has made me realise I am in my heart a wandering traveller. It has also made me realise how easily I could settle somewhere too given the right conditions. It’s all about balance apparently. This mythical never been seen or fully understood beast called balance. But you can’t have balance when you want it all.

As I pack my now enlarged pile of stuff I realise I am happy to move on while also not being entirely keen on the exhaustive side of this moving on. The stepping into the unknown excites and the prospect of being free is overjoying. As I would have discussed yesterday though had I not got distracted by Miley Cyrus, freedom is an entirely mental construct. We need to find freedom internally, allow the mind to accept the ever increasing randomness of existence and responsibly live in the moment. It doesn’t matter whether you’re stuck in the endless toil of menial labour or sailing the ocean. Admittedly one is probably easier to feel free in and we can do ourselves favours with the environment we exist in, but as I said, it’s how we approach existence that matters. One more moment before the next then in this constantly testing journey to free the mind. Maybe that would be a good habit to create. I already have the key after all. I could get used to finally being free. Just be careful not to want it too much.

A Bright Sun Shining Day

This sunshine is really starting to become a positive factor in life. April was torturous stuck inside while we embraced another new the hottest month on record from our living rooms and through our windows. But now that we’re all free(ish) it’s time to get out there and live again. I usually tell people I meet abroad that the best time to visit Scotland is April and May but that usually one of them is sunny and the other raining. This year it seems to be a bit of both, both sunny that is. It’s also worth remembering it’s nearly June. It’s also a bit shocking then that we have had this virus running about since March, over two months ago. Maybe some will disagree but it doesn’t feel like it’s dragged, we now have a new normal and I didn’t even see it coming.

It is scary in how easily we can just get used to new conditions in our lives, how society can become something completely different and we just get on with it. It can’t be a surprise to anyone that dictatorships slowing ebb into creation out of once semi-healthy societies. This new normal the Health Secretary was talking about. On the other hand it’s also a wonderful thing because there is something incredible in our collective ability to adapt. I’m sure it’s less our brains that have helped humans survive and thrive until this point than our ability to adapt to new events and circumstance. That ability could though be down to our big brains. Although it would also be our ability to adapt that gave our brains the chance to develop and become big in the first place. So like usual it’s a little bit of everything and I’m risking going both back and forth, and in a circle at the same time.

It would be impossible to mention all this glorious weather without mentioning climate change of course. It’s not impossible but it’s not always easy to sit there enjoying all this sunshine and warmth, remembering that it wasn’t always this way. Beautiful though it is it’s also probably going to kill us all and those big brains won’t be much use then. That was probably an unnecessary downer but it’s always such an effort to find that balance between downer and realism, unless realism is the downer. I’m sure we’ll be able to adapt, we’ll find a way. It’s just a shame we’ll have to adapt and leave this beautiful world behind to survive in a world of floods, deserts and food crisis’. I will say though it does make me want to drink cider. Lots of lovely cold cider.

A Walk On The Beach

I went on a walk to the beach yesterday. It was one of those walks that you feel you could just walk on and on with no consideration for returning. With every step you are adding an extra one for the return but you just want to continue. It helped that there was a wind pushing me from behind and persuading me to take the easy option of avoiding turning and facing it. Eventually you do just for curiosity and once around a spell is broken as you see how bloody far you must return.

The wind was blowing a layer of dusty sand over the compact wet post-tidal sand under foot and it appeared like I was walking upstream in a river. I lowered my hood and took off my hat so as to feel the true force of nature on my skin. In turn I eyed the sea, it’s infinite refreshing of anything attempting to remain unchanged. With that the stagnant air and weight I felt under, crushing me and my mind, the wind trying it’s best to blow off the shackles but it became clear the sea was only ever the master of all. On I walked in the direction of home.

As the end of the beach became clearer and my opportunity to discover a fresh new existence was running out, the once quiet argument within became louder with each step. To strip off and jump in or to stay clear of the elements and their liberation. Finally with little but rocks left the jacket was determinedly unzipped and the shoes and socks taken off. But in that moment some sense of fear took over, the decision was made to simply dip my feet and see how it felt. If ever this was a moment for why the best approach is always to just jump before you have time to think or feel it was now. On the other hand if ever there was a time to prove caution is the master it too was now.

When the sea is at it’s coldest I couldn’t tell you but with the summer suns yet to appear the winter chill still held sway over the icy cold. The water was no higher than my ankles before I turned in pain, the nerves on my feet sending crisis alarms to my brain and demanding I abort this folly. It is said a cold shower or a cold dip in the sea will extend your life but in that moment a swim may have been an abrupt finale. I turned and scampered to the sun. With that my feet tingled, the fire and ice that a freeze can bring. On came the socks, with laughter at myself and my own one man comedy show performed for nobody I scampered home and to the equally refreshing but infinitely more enjoyable warm shower, clean clothes and comfy sofa. Enough of these harsh elements, now it is time to grow soft as life determines it should be.

The Bonded Free

It has taken me over half an hour to get this far as first my computer gave me problems and then I couldn’t load up the website. Throw in the fact my eyes were getting very heavy and really this was a tempting push in the direction of sacking it off and not doing anything today. But I will persevere, for that is the trip I have chosen. What it also means though is that this will be the first of two pieces tomorrow – today as you read it – and none for today – yesterday as you read it. My god I’m ready for my bed.

I was listening to a podcast today and the guest was some porn mogul who’s name I never bothered attempting to remember. He seemed like quite an interesting person and he was discussing freedom. As a Scotsman this is a topic we’re weaned on from a young age but I’ll not go into the antics of Mel Gibson and instead what freedom means for us. This porn mogul believed freedom was about being able to choose what you want to do or don’t want to, as well as being able to act upon this or not. When I was traveling around Australia about seven or eight years ago, I was in search of complete freedom and for me that meant shutting off the constant stream of guilt that I should or shouldn’t be doing something, or producing something creative, or whatever it is I think I thought now eight years later. I felt totally free, although I forgot I was looking for that, and for better or worse just kind of was. I forgot this at the time and realised a few years later when I wasn’t free mentally and really made an effort to be totally free again. This time though, the ironic thing was that this intense desire and search for freedom was in itself incredibly restrictive, there was nothing liberating about it and understandably was just an escape from the justifiable tap in my head. 

What then is to be free? This porn mogul has it because he’s got nobody telling him what to do, although lets be honest we always answer to somebody, and I had it when I forgot I was looking for it. And then Mel Gibson the Scottish freedom fighting Australian; who desired his people to be free from their bondage to a foreign crown as bondage to their own would be much more palatable. Can freedom then be defined on a universal basis or is it just another subjective construct? Can we objectively be free, perhaps the very act of pure objectivity is in itself the most liberating act of all. As I discovered a few years back, it’s probably best not to spend too much time desiring answers to these questions. The more you think the further from it you get and the more the tap opens…drip, drip, drip…the inescapable bondage of the mind.