The Chase

It is not every day that I get to feel like a hero - with this in mind I try to seize the opportunity when it presents itself. This story is a few months old. Unfortunately between university and procrastination I haven't had time to recount it, until now.

Our story begins on a wet Thursday afternoon, as all Thursdays in the North are wet. After walking into the city centre for lunch I made for the bus stop in order to get home. Safe in the knowledge that my bus wasn't due til 3.45pm I sauntered along quite merrily. Well, as merry as can be in a miserable, industrial city. My peaceful stroll was soon interrupted, however, as I turned the corner to see my bus leaving five minutes early.

Somewhat inconvenient.

For the common man, this would be the end of his story. He would feel a tad annoyed, find some shelter and wait for the next bus. But not me. Knowing the route the bus takes through Manchester, I turned and ran. I took a route through dark alleys, multi-story carparks and a section of China town. My short adventure through the city saw me leaping fences and bravely (recklessly) crossing roads in order to head off the bus.

As I made it to the town hall, I entered the courtyard and saw my bus approaching from the opposite direction. I pelted down to the next bus stop - managing to reach it and signal with seconds to go. If I had missed the bus a second time, I would have felt terrible. Then again, just reaching the bus put me on top of the world.

Here, for your reference, is the bus' route, and my own improvised shortcut...

The bus is highlighted in red, myself in blue - with arrows to show direction. After narrowly missing my bus at point 'A' I bravely traversed the city in search of success.

It's the little things.

Wanders

Typical, really.

I sat down to do some work for university (in this case writing up a presentation on biofilm formation and signalling - I know...) and I haven't got very far. I suppose it's my own fault for putting on some 'folkier' music to listen to while working. For me folk music has this habit of dragging my mind, or my imagination at least, off to pictures of dense forests and stormy skies. It's interesting that simple songs can have such a profound effect. A few bars in and I am all set to pack a bag and venture into the valleys and hills of the North.

And so, because I cannot focus on molecular bacteriology, I feel I should do something constructive with my time. Next Summer I intend on travelling - starting an adventure of sorts. To bring you up to speed I will be heading North, and that's the only decision I have made. I suppose a route or schedule would be beneficial but I haven't got so far yet. I also need to start looking at the clothes and kit a 'would-be adventurer' is going to require. While a lot of people would look at all the organising as laborious, I love it. Every time I research a town to pass through I feel invigorated. Each purchase, be it simply socks or a rucksack, reminds me that my journey is growing ever closer.

Normally I am quite content to wait it out - yet there are always times like this. The clocks have gone back, plunging the North into long nights of thrashing rain and blustering gales. Outside, temperatures struggle to keep above freezing, and all around I can see flora dying back and withering away. But despite the weather and the darkness I sit here comfortable in the knowledge that things will look better soon. If I just ride out the Winter, the environment will become more welcoming. And I feel it is music like this - folk music with fiddles and long, deep chords that takes my attention beyond winter, to the next Summer in the North. These songs make me restless - encouraging that itch to pack up and run.

Tonight will be spent behind the bar. Pulling pints, serving patrons and resisting this itch.

Image Owner: Steve Bruce

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

The Beaten Track

I have always loved writing. Allowing thoughts to collide with ideas and inspiration, in a way never before conceived. Combining the familiar, warm words in new ways for the delight and interest of whoever might chance across them.

For me, writing is akin to a walk in the woods. The beginning is always difficult. Where do you start? You struggle to find your way, often becoming turned round - lost and confused before you have even begun. Eventually, thankfully, you will locate the beaten path or dirt track you wish to follow. As you meander down this path, your pace becomes fluid - slowing at key events or themes, as one might slow to enjoy the flowers, before hurrying on again. And while you continue forwards, leaving the path here and there to explore the undergrowth that gives your work its dimension, you are safe in the knowledge that you know which direction you are heading in.

To begin truly is the hardest part of writing. I enjoy the sense of achievement felt upon clambering through the thickets and hedgerows that cloud my mind, reaching the well-travelled path beyond. It is not dissimilar to solving a puzzle. In one brief flash, one moment of clarity, you make sense of the jumbled information and it all falls into place. Why then, with such a passion for putting pen to page, have I avoided writing for years?

The blame lies rightly with my old English teacher, who allowed hindrance and criticism to take the place of support and nurture. While she put me off at first, it is a mantra of sorts that has convinced me to begin scrawling my thoughts for the world to see. I have come across different approaches to life in books, film, through the people I know and once during a midnight conversation with a Greek man in an underground Manchester bar. And while everyone has a different approach to living life, I am content with my own little 'mantra'...

Do what makes you happy

Regardless of the money you earn, the places you go, the people you meet and the ones you leave behind -

Always do what makes you happy.

Image Owner: Wilfred Thomas