An Outing: Entry Two.

After volunteering my seat and retiring to a fold-down chair opposite a toilet with a broken door we stopped in Leeds for a gaggle of Yorkshiremen to board the train. I'm not sure what the collective noun for several Yorkshire folk is. Perhaps not a gaggle, they were all very quiet and evasive when it came to eye contact and conversation. You might think this would suit someone as chronically unsociable as me - and it did. It did until a cyclist showed up and wanted to demote me further, from sitting outside a broken W.C. to standing outside a broken W.C., so he could stow his bicycle. Trying to find some space in a crowded compartment is made all the more difficult when the stuffy Yorkshirefolk don't acknowledge your existence. Perhaps they had finally cottoned on that I was from Lancashire. I'm not sure how though - it wasn't my accent, I hadn't said a word. I must have had a 'west-of-the-Pennines' vibe about me. Thankfully, after an imbroglio of a train journey, our arrival in York was uneventful.

im.bro.glio
Noun
An extremely confused, complicated, or embarrassing situation: "the Watergate imbroglio"

I found Alex waiting for me on a bench in York. We did that involuntary thing friends do when they haven't seen each other for months - I believe it's called smiling, before burying any emotions (like men!) and heading out into York. We got about fifty metres out of the station before being accosted by some charity worker or nightclub rep. I hate those people. Actually, that's not strictly fair, I hate the job they do - paid to cram flyers into my hand or to guilt me in to donating 'just £2 a month'. I'm not sure which I detest more, a stranger engaging me in conversation or a stranger engaging me in conversation for their own selfish gains. As luck would have it, I was following Alex into York and Alex was following me. He soon realised I had no idea where we were going and therefore was the worst person to follow. We did a U-turn to catch a bus and did our best to evade the nightclub charity rep girl as we passed her again.

There's not much to say after getting on the bus. We drove through York and out the other side, got off, crossed a field, I threw stickyweed at Alex because I'm childish. He tried to explain, as we approached his student house, that he lived out in the 'rough' part of York, where most students don't like to live. Saying 'the rough part of York' is quite oxymoronic - especially when you say it to someone who grew up in a dilapidated industrial town where knife crime and knock-a-door-run are regional sports. My point was made as we passed two girls walking a dog. One stopped us and complimented me on my shoes - I'll be honest, they were good shoes. Now if it had really been a rough area, like the ones I'm accustomed to, saying "Hey, nice shoes" would be followed with "They're mine now" and I would have been knocked to the floor and mugged for my clogs. Instead the girls smiled and walked off and that was the end of it.

Image Owner: Xerones

Better The Devil You Know

It rained today...

It rained long, and it rained hard. The sort of weather that is accompanied by chilled winds and shadowed skies. A storm which feels at home out to sea. I walked through the storm, hood up and coat zipped - for reasons I'll tell you all about some other time. While walking I passed a small Methodist church. I have passed this church countless times, and whenever I do it has a witty sign outside. Usually the sign humorously encourages people in, or advocates a pro-God message. Today's message felt somewhat more sinister. The inky letters printed on dank, wet page read:

'Nobody is too bad to come in
Nobody is too good to stay out'

An interesting dichotomy. In two lines, the preacher has managed to capture everything I hate about organised religion. Nobody is too bad to come in? I dare say there is a plethora of minorities unwelcome in the Church - one only has to look as far as Christians blocking gay marriage to see that some of us are more welcome than others in this little community.

However, this is frivolous to me. A little white lie - a masking of the truth to save face. It is the second line that I find disgusting and utterly toxic. 'Nobody is too good to stay out.' This notion, that we are all evil or impure in some way. Regardless of the good we do, or the moral actions we take - we are still not good enough for this 'omnipotent creator'. I fear this is how we are to be suckered in. The Church tells us we are ill. From a position of authority and apparent wisdom, it tells us we are plagued. As if this news was not enough, it tells us there is no cure. 'No matter your course of action you will not treat this disease...

Unless!

Unless you come in. Come into our humble church. Accept our deity and praise Him with all your heart. Leave your families and friends. Leave your passions and ambitions to follow Him. Only then will you be on the path to a cure. But you will never be fully cured, you must remember this.'

What a truly rotting ideology. To forgo everything you know and love and aspire to be - in order to pursue blind faith and reward in a fictitious afterlife. If you'll permit me, I would like to raise an argument for the defence. An alternate ideology - one that you can choose to accept or discard as you see fit. My belief is this. You are not sick. You are not damaged. You are good enough to stay out. You are you - defined by your loved ones, your passions and your possessions. You do not need to dedicate your life to a phantom. Be truly great. Not for eternal life, nor because your deity commands it. Be truly great because you can be, and because you deserve to be.

You were created in the image of you

Image Owner: Maslavista

Horizons

Name: Samuel

Age: 20

Passion:...

Interesting, isn't it? How no CV, job application or interview asks for your passion in life. While each wants to get to know you, they all manage to miss this most important question. Instead they tend to focus on the academic achievements of your youth, and the hobbies you keep presently."Why yes, I got three As in my exams, and my hobbies include golfing and walking the dog." 

Quite unfortunate really...

It is unfortunate because this is not the measure of a person. You are so much more than this. What I feel truly defines you, is your passion in life. Everybody has a passion. An aspect of the world which fulfils them. An aspect that acts as a driving force and as a foundation for dreams. I place great importance in passion. It is neither a letter on the page, nor, necessarily, a socially accepted past-time. Your passion can be anything - any aspect of the world you please. It is not defined by culture. Nor by race, religion or social standing. The only criterion your passion requires is your full and undivided enthusiasm and enjoyment.

My passion in life, I am sure you are dying to know, is travelling. I look out of my window and can picture the rolling hills, rocky crags and dense forests that lie beyond the horizon. More than that, I picture myself exploring them. Journeying and adventuring. And nothing makes me happier. The feeling of elation is one you'll fully understand if you too have discovered your passion in life. I find myself, on occasion, wishing I was born elsewhere. Somewhere more rugged and rural. Somewhere with lakes and woods, rather than takeaways and pubs - that would be ideal. Honestly, I do not feel I will be completely happy until I can spend the majority of my life travelling, and exploring my passion.

It has started raining...

While I enjoy the sound of rain thudding off my window, I cannot help but think about those distant fields and forests. It will be raining there too. More than that, it will be pouring - and the wind will howl. The storm, so easily deflected at home, will bear down on these wild places. And I long to be there, experiencing.

I sincerely hope that you can relate to this feeling. That you too are this passionate about something - anything. I hope that you have found your passion and drive in life. If you have not, then remember...

...it is out there.

Image Owner: daylong

Shoulders of Giants

There is a simple joy in cycling. It reminds me of a time, not long since passed. A time of lazy days, quiet villages and empty roads. So, as I cycled the ten miles out into the countryside, I felt conflicted. You see, every overhanging tree and chirping songbird was ruined by spluttering exhausts and noxious fumes. The horses and carts have given way to horsepower and burning rubber. Despite the journey's mixed signals - of gorgeous flowers and choking exhaust vapours, I reached my friend's home feeling upbeat.

The reason for my excursion? An adventure.

I was to stay the night at my friend's home. In the morning we would meet with others and head across the county border to explore Brimham Rocks - an area full of unique and precarious rock formations. And this, dear reader, is what we did.

Now, Brimham Rocks is unique. Awe inspiring and interesting. It is a place of history and heritage, a landmark of sorts. Having said that, boys will be boys - and boys like to climb big rocks. Hence, the day was spent climbing, negotiating, and jumping between the site's formations. I was also reminded of an obscure fear, a compulsion of mine. And I was reminded whilst atop a 40ft high rock. Don't fret, it's not a fear of heights - it is much worse.

I fear to be on top of tall structures, because I feel a compulsion to throw myself off.

It's a peculiar feeling. To look over the edge, straight down 40 feet and think to yourself "What if I were to jump?" As much as I try to rationalise my thoughts, it is still there - the voice in the back of my mind. "Go on Sam, we've never jumped off something so high before, let's see what will happen." I know what would happen, but I have to climb down. I have to climb back down because the longer I am up there, the greater the compulsion to throw both caution, and myself, to the wind. I am sure there are others in a similar boat. Others who occasionally hear a mischievous voice whispering in their ear, convincing them to go against sensibility and rationality. While you want to silence it, this voice howls and wails until the opportunity it saw has passed. So I climb down, and let the opportunity for a spectacular and ill-equipped skydive pass.

If there's a take-home message, or pearl of wisdom in my brief  adventure, it is the sense of achievement. In a world increasingly occupied by video games, and convenient living, a sense of achievement is easy to come by. What I rediscovered, while choosing to conquer 40 feet of shapeless sediment, was this -

Aim high, and achieve for yourself. While anyone can 'stand on the shoulders of giants', it is a greater feat to climb up there in the first place.

Image Owner: Stephanie (Violet Danger)

Beyond

Q) Have you ever considered running?
A) Every day of my life...

An abundance of events warrant you wanting to run away. Unfortunately, most are quite negative. Whether you have lost a loved one, or let someone down, it is natural to feel like escaping. Running off - impossibly fast and indescribably far...

But, those are discussions we can save for another time. Today we are in a brighter mood.

At least once a day I consider leaving. It may be over breakfast, or while I am in the shower - but at least once a day I consider it. Retreating back into my mind, I list the pros and cons of packing a bag, kissing goodbye and venturing off, into the unknown.

Pros - Complete freedom. Adventure. People to meet and places to go. A plethora of villages, forests, rivers and hills to explore...

Cons - Money. Lack of food and shelter. No security. Time without my loved ones...

Every day I seriously weigh up the options - playing it out in my head. And every day I say to myself "not today Sam... But one day." Well let me tell you, 'one day' cannot come soon enough. You see, this want to travel is an itch. You can try to ignore it - put it at the back of your mind, forget for a while. But every time you delay your journey, or ignore the itch, it becomes louder. As each day passes, you become more convinced that the itch needs scratching. That you need to escape your comfort zone, into the wide world beyond.

The journey I dream about is not a cheap holiday, nor a week away. This journey seems grander. Starting at the front door, with a bag and tent, I will walk. It requires neither planning nor direction, but could take months to complete. I do not know for how long I would be gone, and I don't know where my travels would take me...

But that is the fun, isn't it?

I sincerely hope that you can relate. That you too have thought of running. Of leaving behind your comfort zone, and your possessions, in order to experience something more. Something unique, and personally remarkable...

Image Owner: Cindy's Here