Stronger Together - For Orlando

A little over 600 days ago I wrote an article wherein I discussed the power that love has and the things that humans are willing subject themselves and others to in order to find love and keep it.

Sadly, the events of this weekend have shown us all what people are also willing to do to destroy love. Over the past 24 hours I have read numerous reports on the attack in Orlando, and there is a consistent inaccuracy within these reports that I cannot ignore.

These 49 lives were not "lost". They were taken. These people were ripped out of existence for no greater reason than hatred, ignorance and bigotry. Put simply, this was an attack on the LGBT community, and my heart goes out to the families and friends of each and every victim of this senseless tragedy.

More and more we find ourselves reminded of the horror that human beings are capable of. Whether it's in the frequent terror attacks in the Middle-East, the attacks closer to home, or even the victimisation of people from all walks of life who's plight doesn't make it to the forefront of the media, it saddens me to see such division amongst a species with so much more to gain through solidarity.

Though I am not personally a part of the LGBT community, I am proud to call its members my friends. Over the course of my 26 years on this planet I have had the privilege of knowing dozens of wonderful LGBT people who have enriched my life in a great many ways. The same can absolutely be said for my friends of Islamic faith; a community that has been the target of an inexcusable amount of hatred and mistrust due to the actions of a few individuals who share the cowardly beliefs which fuelled the events of this weekend.

I am a white, British heterosexual atheist male. I have never had to endure any degree of discrimination and I have never been attacked because of what I believe. I don't feel that I belong to any particular "community" and so I can only begin to guess how much it hurts when somebody seeks to destroy a family that you feel yourself to be a part of.

With that said, what I remain certain of is the power of love. In events such as these, it is all to easy to become lost in the anger and pain that such an act of terror provokes, but I would urge everybody to look beyond the hurt and confusion and see the compassion that is inherent in most human beings instead. In a state wherein blood donations from sexually-active gay men are not permitted, hundreds of people lined up in Florida hoping to donate blood in support of the LGBT victims.

Love ultimately triumphs.

Good will always beat evil. We must remember that.

So finally, I say this. You can be male, female, heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, cisgender, transgender, black, white, Asian, Christian, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Pagan, agnostic, atheist, disabled, able-bodied, or anything else.

Ultimately, all that matters is that you are good. Be kind, be brave, and be accepting. Individuality is beautiful; it's what makes the human race such a fascinating and varied species. You may disagree with somebody's views or beliefs, and that's fine, but violence will only ever destroy.

We are stronger together. Always.

I love you all.

New Oceans

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” – Andre Gide

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What strikes me most about the past four months is how exceptionally different they were to the four years that preceded them. What then was a life of routine, stress and discontentment is now one of hope, uncertainty and unemployment.

With that said, I couldn't be happier with how life has been this year.

Last Saturday I walked on British soil for the first time in six weeks and I did so more than ready to be back. I had finally taken the steps to begin fulfilling a lifelong dream and the idea of that initial journey coming to an end wasn't the worst thing in the world for me. By no means should this statement be interpreted as disappointment; for all I had to give up to travel I regret nothing. I truly feel as if I learned more about myself, the world, Hannah and home in that time than I could ever have done otherwise.

Split, Croatia - One of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.

All I mean to say is that six weeks was enough time for a collection of "first steps" and I'm at peace with the idea that this is a journey I will continue for the rest of my life.

What I find myself faced with now is a purgatory of sorts; a "nowhere" place between where I've been and where I'm going. I'm sure there's a metaphor about "train station changeovers" buried in there somewhere that fits nicely with my travelling motif, but I digress. I've not yet adjusted to being back, and so the last six days have been filled with nothing more grandiose than loved ones and bad food. The focus now is on moving forward and finding the next means of adventure.

Travelling is without a doubt the most important thing I've ever done, and the temporary cessation of that experience can be likened to crawling after a rapid sprint; once you're done being on your hands and knees, there is only one course of action.

Catch your breath, get back on your feet, and run like the devil himself is chasing you.

"He's pissed all over the tent..."

Those of you who knew my old man will know he was an avid outdoorsman; always camping, fishing or climbing, it wasn't rare to hear of him taking off for a week to go bird-watching or hiking on his own.

On a couple of occasions, he took my older brother and I with him.

Wee toddler that I was, I was quite excited about the idea. In hindsight, I'm fairly certain that my behaviour on these trips was what limited it to a "couple".

During the first trip I threw what I believe to be a very expensive knife of his over a cliff, and I think I urinated all over the inside of the tent during our second attempt.

Fast forward 20 years and we made plans to camp at Snowdonia together. Whilst we never actually got to do it, I like to think I'd have retained at least a modicum of dignity for that trip. Third time's a charm and all that.

It's 3 years today since he died, so I figured I'd share an embarrassing childhood memory with you.

Sorry about the knife, old man.