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.

Platonic

I stumbled onto something today that I thought I'd share with you. As somebody who believes only in what he can see and quantify, this particular piece of writing got me thinking about the importance of our many profound connections.

A few thousand years ago, circa 380BC, Plato wrote a text entitled "Symposium" that examined the nature and origins of love. Herein he recounts a discussion that takes place between a group of prominent Greek figures, as each of them presents a speech about Eros, the embodiment of love and desire. Amongst these figures is a man named Aristophanes, a comic playwright whose presentation consists of a story about "soulmates".

Aristophanes explains that once upon a time humans were very different, and were in fact in possession of four arms, four legs, and one head with two faces. These humans were divided into three genders, born of the Sun, the Earth and the Moon. The children of the Sun essentially consisted of two men, unified as one; with their female counterparts existing as the children of the Earth. Lastly were the Androgynous; the children of the Moon (the Moon being both Sun and Earth), and these lived as both men and women at once.

According to Aristophanes, the humans had become very powerful and threatened to overthrow the Gods whom they once served. In order to avert this, Zeus split the humans in half as punishment for their treachery, and thus we were left as we are today; incomplete men and women with two arms, two legs, and one face. 

With this punishment came a deep longing in humans to once again be re-united with their "other halves". It was said that we would spend our entire lives searching for that piece of ourselves that would complete us, and that when we found that other half we would know instantly, without words, and would experience the greatest joy imaginable. Reunited with our soulmates, we would live and die in complete peace, having finally made sense of our own existence. 

Bill Watterson's "Calvin & Hobbes" - Soulmates.

It's an interesting take on things, isn't it? Naturally, I realise that this is nothing more than a story, but I can't help but be struck by the idea of it because it speaks to the primal nature of humans and the calm that is achieved when you immerse yourself completely in another person. When something as simple as their words or their voice brings you peace, it's hard to argue that they do not, in some small way, make up a part of you that you cannot sustain on your own. Whether you believe in some higher purpose or not, the look of absolute contentment in the eyes of somebody experiencing that type of love is undeniable. 

This is where things get a little conflicted for me. I'm a man of science; somebody who believes in nothing more than physical laws and the scientific method. However, I'm also somebody who has a habit of romanticising the connections we make in our lifetimes and applying a deep personal meaning to them. 

So, on which side of the fence do I fall? 

I fall on the side of the real. So whilst I don't believe in some innate connection that's with us from birth, I do believe in forged connections that can stay with us until death. A lot of my friends are currently tempering these links; many of whom will soon be married with children. If I'm going to believe in what I see, I choose to believe in them. 

With that, I wish you all the best of luck. To those of you who will spend this year building your lives together; may you prove to be the pieces that make each other whole. 

Resolve

"Bring the past, only if you are going to build from it." - Doménico Cieri Estrada

We're rapidly nearing the new year; the time in which we reflect on our experiences over the last few months and plan for the future. Of all the days in the year, none hold such promise as New Years Day. With it comes the chance to begin again; to reframe the way in which you view the world and strive for something better.

I've done my fair share of looking back this year; far more than I had anticipated. In doing so, I have realised that I will leave 2014 a very different man to the one I began it as. Looking back is important. I'm a firm believer in the idea that it's easier to determine the path you've yet to walk if you recall the steps you've already taken. This mindset ensures that you learn from the mistakes and the triumphs that you encountered during your journey to this moment, and you avoid retreading old ground. No more dead ends; just a steady path to the next chapter of your story.

One of the many wonderful things I saw this year.

I began this year with a series of goals; goals that seemed important at the time, even if they held little weight in the grand scheme of things. Whilst I'm happy to say that many of these were achieved, what blew me away the most were the victories that I hadn't planned for. Like a punch to the gut, it's hard to catch your breath in the moments that take it away. Rarely do you expect life to swing so violently in your favour. 

With this in mind, it's time to look forward again; to plan the next leg. Ask yourself what you want from the next 12 months. Consider how deeply you want to change, and see how far you get. You may find that you struggle to stick to the traditional "New Years Resolution" because after a few weeks, you begin to realise that you never really cared about that which you resolved to change. So think big, and dream bigger. Nobody's life ever changed because they decided to eat one less chocolate bar a day. If you only ever seek to change the little things, then you will only ever see the subtle and meaningless shifts; tremors instead of earthquakes.

So I've a final piece of advice for you all. One that I have followed rarely, and lamented often. If there is something you want, grab it. Pick one thing and fight tooth and nail for it. I don't care if it's a job, a lover, a distant lust or even something as small as the slightest chance for happiness. Break your back for it, because once you have it, every single wound you suffered in the pursuit of that happiness will fade and you will be left with nothing but the spoils of your personal war. Make this your resolution.

Happy New Year; may it prove to be nothing less than spectacular.

Wanderlust

How many times in your life have you woken up under the same sky? Walked the same streets to the same job and said the same old things to the same old people? It occurs to me that I've done this more times than I can count, and whilst it's not an inherently bad thing, it does leave me wondering what else is out there.

Those of you who know me will recall that I've spent the last 7 years talking about my intention to go travelling. As somebody with very little in the way of actual direction, this dream is one of the few that has continued to gnaw away at the forefront of my mind. Issue is, due to some complicated family history, I wasn't able to get a passport until just under 6 months ago.

Long story short?

My maternal great-grandparents decided that it would be a good laugh to raise the most elusive child in history and leave virtually no record of his birth. Unaware of this, I searched for his details for months to no avail, and began to consider the possibility that I may be descended from some kind of Jason Bourne-style super-spy. This idea was quickly discarded as it seemed far more likely that my grandfather was an immigrant from Papua New Guinea, and I worried that once David Cameron figured it all out I would soon be deported.

My first taste of duty-free alcohol.

For those of you who don't know me; I am a 5'6, ginger chap from Wales. With that in mind, the lengths I had to go to just to prove I was British were nothing short of painstaking. Seriously; I'm so pale that in the right light you can see my heart. Fortunately, what I lack in height, I make up for with detective skills that would put Batman to shame, so eventually I was granted that little red, leathery key to the world and thus embarked on my first holiday.

I should clarify that a 3-week alcohol-fuelled bender in Spain is not my idea of travelling, but at the time I was happy enough just to be walking different streets. Even if those streets were heavily populated with drunken TOWIE rejects and wily prostitutes.

I did all the things a young man does when he finds himself on an island where the main form of sustenance is sambuca; I smoked, drank, got absolutely rinsed by strippers and entered a state of perpetual hangover. But as I say, this didn't feel like travelling.

5 months on, it feels as if "travelling" has become nothing more than a placeholder term assigned to an aspirational eventuality. I wake up each morning and consider the day ahead; knowing exactly what that day will hold. At 24, surely I'm too young for life to have become so routine? I'd like to think we all are.

So maybe it's time to rethink it all? Essentially, the only things that are stopping me are time and fear. Fear is easily conquered, and as long as you make time an ally instead of something you rage against, I guess there's not a great deal you can't achieve. You just have to want it enough.

For now, I'll settle for small steps. With that in mind, if anybody has any suggestions for a cheap, 1-week getaway in January, that'd be swell.

Because I'm f***ing clueless.

Storytelling

I've spent a great part of the last few days simply remembering my life. In lieu of very little, I find myself recalling experiences and acts that I haven't thought about in years; perhaps even since they happened.

Spending all night playing computer games with my little brother. Dancing down the Albert Dock with Charlotte. My first few months in University.

As far as I can tell, there has been no consistent trigger for these memories, but for one reason or another they have each crept to the forefront of my mind for a time, only to retreat back into my subconscious moments later. With each of these recollections comes a feeling that might most aptly be described as 'bittersweet'. Whilst these memories hold great significance, the inability to revisit or relive these experiences is a constant source of frustration for me.

This is why I love to have a record of things. Whether it's through my films, my photographs, or my writing, the documenting of these memories lends them a level of substance that they could never have just dancing around inside my head.

I'm a strong believer in the importance of memories. More than anything else in this world I believe we are shaped by our experiences. Our memories are essentially nothing more than subjective interpretations of these events, and in many ways we allow ourselves to be defined by how we remember something; even if that memory doesn't entirely reflect the original truth of the situation.

With that said, it's important that we don't manufacture these experiences. With the uprising of social media and camera-phones, it's all to easy to live life through the eyes of your lens. There's only so many times you can filter and crop an image before the memory that the picture was meant to represent is completely unrecognisable. Such is the selective memory of the digital age. If you were to believe everything you saw on Instagram, you could be forgiven for believing that everybody is living a far happier life than you might be, but we all embellish our own stories.

Since I was 13 years old I have been enamoured with the thought of travelling the world. For a long time I was convinced that this adventure would lead me to a single moment when everything would click and make sense to me, but the more I think about this, the less I believe it. To quote one of the first songs I ever recall hearing;

"Life's a journey, not a destination."

I had lived under the impression that I would wander from one place to the next, living through these predetermined events that I had laid out for myself and then I would have my own story to tell. It now occurs to me that I was looking at this from the wrong angle. You shouldn't plan memories, because the imagination is a vast and wondrous thing; how can life contend with that? Instead, I believe we should simply attempt to gravitate towards situations and events that allow these memories a natural genesis. If it's worth remembering, you'll remember it.

I've been told on a number of occasions that I've a talent for storytelling. Perhaps this is why I hold memories in such high esteem. All we are is what we've done, and when our bodies begin to fail us, all we will have is our stories. I want to be sure that when I reach 70, I can take my grandchildren on great adventures with nothing more than my words.

That's how I'll know I've lived.

Cause and Effect

Let's talk about happiness; emotional subjectivity at its most basic.

In my ever-expanding pursuit of happiness, I have begun practicing meditation. I've even earned a sticker for "making a good start", and who doesn't love stickers? Now, prior to actually having tried meditation, I would have dismissed this specific pursuit as new-age hokum that serves up nothing but placebo. With that said, it's easy to forget how powerful placebo can be.

The dictionary definition of the placebo effect reads as follows:

"A beneficial effect produced by a placebo drug or treatment, which cannot be attributed to the properties of the placebo itself, and must therefore be due to the patient's belief in that treatment."

Simply put, the placebo effect is the phenomenon of having something affect you in a positive way, purely because you're expecting it to. So, if you had a headache, you might want an aspirin. If I hand you a sugar pill that you think is an aspirin, your headache might subside just because you think it should. This effect is used in pharmaceutical testing all the time in order to determine the effectiveness of a particular drug versus the results of sheer positive thinking.

Still with me? I hope so.

A huge part of overcoming my depression involved changing the way I view the world. Instead of having instantly negative reactions to the smallest of obstacles, I had to learn to step back, breathe, and think about why I was so pissed off. It began to occur to me that for as much as I wanted to scream and shout about the injustice of it all, this kind of behaviour serves nobody. More than that, it puts me on the back-foot and I avoid listening to reason. I suppose meditation is an extension of this effort. Do these results I'm experiencing stem from placebo? Or is there actual benefit in sitting in silence, and breathing out all my angst?

See, breathing is important. Aside from the immediate benefits it brings (not dying, for example), it gives you a moment to consider the situation you're in, and how best to approach it. I choose to ask myself three questions:

"What am I really angry about?"
"What am I planning to do about it?"
"Is what I'm about to do going to be negative or positive?"

If the answer to the third question isn't positive, than 9 times out of 10, I don't do it.

The most amazing aspect of trying to avoid all the negativity is that you become more open to seeing the beauty of things. Things that might have been irrelevant to you before suddenly take on a great deal of meaning. Take today, for example:

This morning, I went for a walk and saw two children playing alone in the park; a brother and sister no older than 6 years of age. In lieu of nothing, the big brother kneels down and zips up his baby sister's coat to stop her from getting cold. Something that simple and sweet made my entire day. At 6 years old, this kid is already so invested in his sister's happiness that he made sure to keep her warm and safe with no prompt from anybody. On my way back, I saw him holding her hand as he walked them both home; safe and happy.

I find I'm noticing these little things more and more as time goes on, and every single one of them brightens my mood to no end. The most beautiful acts of kindness are those that have the potential to affect people you're not even aware of.

So, today I'm happy because I chose to be. Now, I'll leave you with this:

Be happy. Don't just hope you will be, choose to be. Whatever it takes. Most importantly, remember that whether it's the result of medicine, positive-thinking, or the placebo effect; happiness is happiness. Don't waste time questioning it, because it's not the cause that matters.

It's the effect.

The Moral of Icarus

Beginning a new journey is as difficult as beginning anything with meaning; it's hard to know where to start. Much like a story for which you've written only the middle and the end, oftentimes you wish you could just jump straight in at the 6th chapter, at a point where everything has begun to make sense and take shape.

I've always believed that this is because first steps are invariably the hardest ones to take. It can be easy to forget sometimes that you have to learn to crawl before you learn to walk, even if it occasionally feels like it'd be easier to simply lie there; an immobile, immovable object with no desire to drift and no need to change trajectory. 

Over the last few weeks, I've had my love of film reignited by the good advice of a friend. The films that have begun to re-stoke this passion in me have each dealt with the invasive discontentment that can descend upon us as we grow and change. More importantly, these films have focused on the desire to escape that downward spiral and emerge as someone better. Someone great.

So why is it so difficult? Why do we fear journeying into the unknown? Probably for the same reason we fear the dark as children; we have no idea what's out there and it seems far more logical to remain in the safety of our beds. This is a mindset I've fallen into time and again. I'm 24 years old and it often feels as if all I have to show for it is plans and hypotheticals. Plans are important, but it's finding the distinction between a solid idea and a pipe dream that matters. Once you've figured that out? Hell, maybe it's better to shoot high. 

It's all how you look at the glass. Is the moral of Icarus that he flew too close to the sun? No. It's that he fucking flew.

So I suppose, in the end, it boils down to a choice:

Would you rather fall on your face from 10ft or 1000ft? Either way it's going to sting like hell; you might as well enjoy a good view on the way down. You might see something beautiful.