Adventure

Adventure is good for the soul. I can vouch for this. My soul feels saited, my camera full and my mind finally focused.

In other words, I ran away to London over the weekend. Not for the first time either. Once during my undergraduate degree, I ended up on an overnight bus to London with less that four hours notice and several of my best friends. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made and this was just as fufilling.

I have a habit, neither bad nor good, because it leads to a soild serving of both in the end. I get ideas in my head. Ideas I just can’t shake. These ideas perculate and simmer until I have the entire prospect mentally planned and I just have to know if I can do it. London was one such idea. I can’t really explain it. It started as an opportunity to see one of my favourite poets perform live. It was happening the next day and I was a country over, but I wanted to make it happen.

Oddly enough though, in the space of a few hours the tickets had sold out, and I just didn’t mind. It should have bothered me more than it did, but I just wanted to go on an adventure. I wanted to take my boyfriend and do something carefree and spontaneous, and just deal with the concequences when they came. You have no idea how rare that is for me. Sometimes it’s just impossible to switch my brain off. I’m a realist. Every idea and thought is analysed for practical and likely outcomes, which are nine times out of ten negative. So to just not care, it’s so cathartic. To find that rare get-up-and-go that so often is just absent, it was just luxurious. The excitement. To go. To see. To share it. I needed it, so much.

Now, however, I need to get back to work. But it’s still there, in the background. That get-up-and-go. I’m motivated again, even in the smallest way, but it’s there. I found it again.

I’m reminded of a poem that Tia used to love. (Tia is my grandmother, but she’d whack you upside the head for calling her that and making her young soul feel so old). I just remember the one line, about this old woman reading obituaries just to double check she wasn’t in it.

“My get-up-and-go had got up and went”

Hopefully that’s a while down the line for me yet. Motivation is fleeting for me lately, but I know there are many adventures in my future, whether for a day or a life-time. So for now, I’m biding my time, working away during the lull between adventures. After all, that lull is life, and I want to enjoy every moment.


P.S. Keep an eye out for updates to my Photography from the Streets of London album. My new photos will be getting added as soon as I get the opportunity to edit them.

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Words

I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately. How freely we spread our words, for better or for worse. How words have completely different connotations depending on context. How using the term ‘heart attack’ colloquially is never a good idea when talking to one of your oldest friends, whose father has just died of an unexpected heart attack. How it’s impossible not to dwell on words you wish you could take back. You are never more aware of the throw-away words you use than when you know how they could hurt someone. Sometimes apologies aren’t really an option. Sometimes it’s irrelevant. I’m getting to the stage in my life where I think that loss may become somewhat of a norm. It’s terrifying. I have gotten rid of so many toxic people and relationships throughout my life, a lot of them family members, that the ones I keep close mean more to me than the world. It means that if loss is to become par for the course, it is going to impact me and hurt me so much in years to come.

Intentions 

Ah the best laid intentions. I was going to climb Ben Nevis today for the first time. I was up at 5am, packed my bag, donned my hiking boots, opened the door to rain. 

Its been three hours and the weather forecast still claims it’s dry outside. Ah well. There goes my good day of fitness. And productivity. I really shouldn’t have let my mum put the tv on. But tea and lounging is just an inescapable reality of being at home. 

Siblings

I’m having tea at my uncles. Mum and him are talking over each other as usual, fighting for soundwave dominance. Family is funny like that. Fighting in such a loving manner. They steal ideas off of each other. Holidays, furniture types, bathroom designs. It’s a hilarious battle for sibling dominance between two entirely different people (other than their big ears). 

I should consider putting a ban on home renovation discussions.  Or make more tea. Probably more tea.