This site has now been retired. I've moved to my new site Silverknife, where you'll find new blog posts and all my latest projects and photos. These pages will remain for at least a while, as I know some of you are still looking through the archives, but I'm reposting my travel journals and many other articles on the new site. Come and check it out.
first previous archive next latest
God, what a day. I think every part of my body hurts. Bits of my arse that I didn't even know existed feel exhausted. But it's been worth it.
Today is more by nature of being a photojournal than a blog article, so apologies to anyone on dial-up, but the pictures are kind of pivotal. Click on any image to see it full-size.
For starters, when I got up this morning I had a huge list of things I had to do. That list went straight to the wall, however, because the view from my window looked like this:
 |
 |
||
 |
 |
The most extraordinary morning, cloudless sky, it felt like summer already. It rapidly became clear that I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything sitting around the flat, so I packed everything I thought I could possibly need, then kept unpacking things until my rucksack would close, and went to fetch the Trusty Steed (which hasn't seen much action lately).
 |
 |
I honestly didn't have anything resembling a plan at this stage, and a little voice was still pulling at me to just go back and settle in in front of the computer for the day. But I knew that if I didn't get out in the sun while it was available I'd hate myself by the end of the day.
Some decidedly unsafe but enjoyable on-road photography later...
 |
 |
...I realised that I hadn't brought any water, also that I'd forgotten to eat or bring any breakfast. So a quick loop back through the park...
 |
 |
 |
...and attempt number two. Once I got a bit more woken up and into the rhythm of cycling, just being out and moving in the sun started to feel wonderful. |
I quickly found myself turning in the direction of Mowsbury Park, where I haven't been since I was a kid. It's pretty much just open playing fields with a little playground area,
 |
 |
||
but I found a bench and just sat and basked in the sun, and chatted to dog walkers, and felt the breeze, and it was an extraordinary feeling. The openness of the landscape seemed to mirror the feeling in my head weirdly, and I realised that all my usual feelings when I'm out in the world (that faint need to get back to my den, and all the wondering what I could be doing if I wasn't out here doing nothing) were fading away. |
 |
For most of my life I have spent most of my time either looking to the past, the future or some fantasy world. This strip pretty much says it all (and if you can say it with Calvin and Hobbes, I'm a happy bunny).
 |
But now I began to feel joy in just being in the moment, here and now, not anticipating the future or feeling nostalgic about the past or imagining a better world. Just being here in the warm sun, talking and resting or moving or exploring or whatever came along. It seems like times when we can just be in the place we are and interact with what we see, without concern about preparing for some future or fear of negative consequences, are the best possible definition of play. It's an idea that's come up a lot lately in the work-free lifestyle literature which I've been following: many people just don't know how to play any more. All they(we) know how to do is switch off in front of a TV. The idea of active play, activities which have no practical purpose but which are taken (fairly) seriously and given value, is almost forgotten by the time many of us are teenagers. At best some of us have competitive sporting activities, which are so locked up in official rules and sanctioned play and the neverending urge to compete and be top that all joy in the play itself is lost. Obviously this is a generalisation and a bit strongly stated, but it's a clear trend, and it's heavily tied up with our sick work culture these days. The ideal job is essentially a form of play - an activity which you take seriously for it's own sake, but in which the rules are negotiable and there is joy in just doing it. How many people these days can do a job without numerous artificial targets, untrusting bosses who demand constant reports to make sure they're not shirking, and political conniving among co-workers? How many of us would do our job for the joy of it?
I'm going to break the day here, as it's a reasonably neat transition point and it really is getting ridiculously huge. And it means I don't have to think of something to write about tomorrow, hooray! Also I'm knackered, aching, slightly nettle-stung and I want sleep. Night night all, see ya tomorrow for the rest of the story.
If you've particularly enjoyed this article and think others would enjoy it too, click here to share it on these sites:
