There are times when the world feels huge.
As I woke up this morning, the walls of my room seemed a million miles away,
and the journey I was planning to take infinitely more so. The shower wasn’t
warm enough, for some reason, and as I sat there shivering in the morning light
at 5:15am, I will confess I had a moment of doubt. Well, I’ll confess that that
moment of doubt was the latest in a few I had been experiencing over the last
couple of days as the start date of my trip hurtled towards me like an out of
control cement truck. Wouldn’t it be easier to spend the summer at home, with
friends? After all, I had gone through a break up relatively recently, and I
wasn’t sure that I was entirely over it yet. My friends and family had been a
lifeline for me in the first part of this year, and now I was planning on
leaving them for a third of a year. I felt like a helicopter with intermittent
power failure, dipping down only to stutter back into life and ride up on
another wave of positivity and enthusiasm for the trip, leaving a trail of
smoke in my wake. Was I ready for this trip?
The answer, really, is no.
We are never ready, really. We can try to
prepare, to brace ourselves for what’s about to happen, and we can try to
reason away what is happening, but we are never truly ready for life. Now
obviously I’m not talking about the small stuff, though I’m sure those of you
with kids jumped immediately to thoughts of the school run when I said that.
I’m talking about big life events: first day of school, first kiss with someone
special, leaving your job, death of a love one. You can never be truly prepared
for what you will feel, or think, or say (I’m not prepared for half the things
I say), and you certainly can’t be prepared for what other people are going to
do and say. There is no brace position that protects you from what life will do
to you, either. Life changes you, and sure – you can try and prepare for that,
but what will it change you into? Will you like what it does to you? Will other
people? Life washes over us as sure as the tides, and it we aren’t drowning
then we’re really doing quite well.
So what do you do? Is there any way, as
Baden-Powell loved to say, to “be prepared” when it’s almost impossible? My
answer would be, in this instance, don’t. To prepare yourself emotionally,
spiritually even, for events like this can all too easily become the equivalent
of making sure you can stem the impact of what life does to you. It’s like
making a backup copy of your psyche, to be preserved against what is going to happen
to you and what those things will do to you. To use the swimming metaphor, it’s
the equivalent of putting on your diving suit, or getting in your submarine.
But what do you miss from inside that cocoon? What glorious sights are you
missing as you walk the floor of life’s ocean, safe inside your suit of armour?
I feel like, at times, I have walked along my own ocean floor, insulating
myself against the damage life might do to me, telling myself that I was really
swimming.
That’s partially what this trip is about;
this is me taking off my diving suit, and giving swimming a go. That’s what the
anxiety is about; right now I am in the troughs and swells of the waves,
gasping for air, with my diving suit tied to my back in case it all gets too
much. But of course, the suit is weighing me down. So my first mission on this
journey is to let that suit go. Because once the weight of that is gone, I will
be able to swim with that tide. It won’t matter what life throws at me, because
I won’t be busy trying to protect myself against it. The wave will swell, and I
will be there at the forefront. And life, let me tell you something: not only
am I going to swim with you, but I am going to conjure a surf board out of
nowhere and ride the waves for as long as I can. If anyone wants to try surfing
with me, just give me a call. Because that’s also what this trip is about; if I
can free myself up and embrace life’s changes, then you sure as hell can to.
Now, where’s the Dixons? I forgot to buy a
travel adaptor for the Surface.
When people ask me about Scouting and God, I always say that having an element of the programme that allows people the space to become aware of themselves and others, and therefore to grow, is really important. It doesn't have to be, but can be, connected to God. They don't always understand what I mean.
ReplyDeleteThis blog entry feels like a product of, and an advert for, that part of Scouting.
Now go and have a good time!
Just go!
ReplyDeleteSorry, I meant, just go and have a lovely time! and try not to be too deep. (See...carrying on the aquatic theme.) We'll all still be here when you get back, same old, same old, and you'll wonder why you hesitated leaving. I'm sure the good people of Mexico, USA and Canada are excellent at life saving anyway. x
Good luck Jon, And have a good one! Ad for monthe is youst one more month form the loong time you wher i Kandersteg ;)
ReplyDeleteGood luck //Johan Sweden
Four months*
DeletePhilosophical much. Here's a question. Why not have a back-up copy? What if something bad happens, so why not have a back-up? Technically, that wouldn't work anyway because every experience changes you so you cannot go back to the back-up copy you have.
ReplyDeleteWhat is it people say? "Prepare for the worst and hope for the best"? To be honest? I think you've already swum and anyway, people go through worse.
Meh.
Have a nice trip, anyway. Hope the plane journey is nice. :)
Scouting doesn't force you to swim. It shows you how and what to do if you go wrong. But not everything. Swimming is your own choice.
DeleteHave fun john as i know i would given the same situation. (hope to see some gd pics btw)
ReplyDelete