Thursday, September 9, 2010

Trying not to run away

I'm trying not to just leave it all behind - I mean everything.  Sell it all, buy a boat, a Morgan 40 or Island Packet Centre cockpit or even a Corbin and just go, see everything, experience everything.

I feel so tied down.  I'm sure a lot of people feel the same but I almost feel sick about being stuck here, the same thing everyday, the pushing and shoving making my way just down the street.  The anti-humanness of Blackberries and iPhone, not looking up to even excuse your self or allow someone to pass by.  The total boringness of people who only care about 1 or 2 things in their life, not wanting anymore or not seeing anything beyond large homes, fast cars and their iPhones.  

I sometimes wish I could be boring but I think that would bore me.  I want to do stuff, experience life, what it's like to really be a human.  I don't think being human means walking to work while punching meaningless half sentences into a Blackberry make you human.  I don't think owning a nicer car then the suit next to you on the GO train makes you human.  What I think makes you human must be experiencing all the natural world around oneself because it's that world that made humans.  

I would like to experience mother nature's worse:

And I would like to experience her beauty:

The lucky few who get to experience the world as human beings without the confines of a big city or the crowds actually make me green with jealously - and I'm not proud of that.  

Maybe some people love the crowds, the noise, the dirt, the waste, I don't know.  Maybe because I don't enjoy any of those things I would never make acquaintance with people like that.  I long for quiet, like on Little Cayman, swinging on my hammock in the late afternoon, experiencing a different kind of noise, not the noise of society, or the noise of burning fossil fuels, or the noise of people talking about nothing.  It was the noise of the crabs and the birds going about their business.  The sound of the wind in the trees, rustling the palm leaves, listening to the angry surf on the windward side of the island and the soft, sweet lapping of the waves on the leeward side.  Even the creek of hammock as it swung from side to side.  Just laying there staring up into the mango tree and glimpsing the blue sky every once in a while. 

My joys in life are simple - the cool fall breeze stroking your face as you fall asleep at night, the sound of the winter wind blowing through the pine trees in the forest in the dead of winter.  Sitting under a pine tree in winter, sipping on some rum, and the quiet pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears in that forest.  Sitting at the dock or hanging over the side of the boat looking at the bottom of the lake or just looking at the water going by your feet.  Enjoying the different colours of the water.

All the what-ifs.  I don't know if I'm more scared to leave all the financial stability behind and do what I really want to do or if I'm more scared to be missing out on everything.  Those are 2 very large questions indeed.

There must be a way to experience this, yet be able to live somewhere, as an old person, who will require medical help - that's inevitable, aging will happen to all of us, but how we get there is a journey.  There must be a way for me to go on my journey.  I guess I'll have to keep on looking.  At least if I keep on looking it gives me hope that it is possible to spend 5 or 10 years seeing humanity and the world and how humans fit into the grand scheme of things, and how we have messed things up for the future...I don't want to be disappointed in my journey.  Do you?


  1. Fantastic. Thank you for sharing what most of us are to afraid to admit...