Strolling

For me, to think and mull over things about myself or the world I tend to go on a really long walk. Nothing works better in clearing my head than to close the door, sniff and start shuffling those feet. Where I head, I’m not really too fussed, it literally is aimless walking, sometimes on the path, other times across a field (I do believe I walked past a dogging gathering once). Since I was a young un’ I have enjoyed walking and used to see how far I could venture until I was truly lost. Although I don’t adapt the walking style you see in the Olympic Games I do tend to shift some without realising it. But it’s the opportunity for me to think things deeply that motivates me to do it. Taking in a cool breath of air kind of mellows my mind from ideas buzzing around my head and allows me to approach them rationally instead of going ‘yeah that’s great.’ Then two minutes later I’m thinking about another one and then another. I don’t actually given them due consideration and eventual realisation that some of them are pretty pants unless I think about them while walking. Hey, Meredith Belbin always said I was a ‘Plant’. So while walking along making the hole in my plimpsole even larger my head sorts them out by thinking, is it possible to do this? If so, how can it be done? How much money will it cost? Usually by step two it’s faltered. I snigger and we carry on. Other times my mind is preoccupied with the usual clichéd but still somewhat significant topic we all share, ‘am I doing the right thing for me in this moment in life?’

To deal with this I let my mind’s eye take over and create several alternative selfs all exactly the same as me but one is richer, another sensible and the final one adventurous. The richer one would definitely be living in New York, in an apartment similar to the one that’s featured in the beginning of Cloverfield, when the camera is first turned on in the morning. When I saw that scene my heart kind of melted seeing the view of New York below. How I would love to one day pull back the curtains and see that view, know and feeling I am part of such a magnificent city. The smile would grow and grow. The sensible version of me would probably be related to the rich aspect. Had I been sensible I could have aspired to those extremely financially rewarding professions. But from a young age I’ve wrestled with that aspect, when being told being a solicitor or accountant are professions I must push towards. Straightaway I thought they were boring, I didn’t want to follow that route. However, I do not wish to write disparaging remarks about those types of careers. As I get older I realise that in order to reach those kinds of jobs you need to develop skills like, analytical and observational both of which are useful in every job. Perhaps that is why those who fail in those professions succeed elsewhere because they have nurtured these transferable assets. I think the sensible version of me is the most dangerous, he would be content with money but inside him would harbour a resentment for not being just himself until reaching mid life and break down, fall to pieces and then start to resent the time wasted achieving those career goals only to throw them all away again from going bonkers.

And the adventurous one, well, it’s pretty obvious to myself I’d like to be travelling, perhaps right now sitting in some café in Japan reading some Murakami in peace while occasionally looking outside and see the people go to work, smiling at the cute office girl as she buys her breakfast. But adventure doesn’t mean gallivanting around the globe. What adventure would arise if I just quit my job one day? Said it was over and not come back. Turn on my laptop and really hammer through my progressive text I wrote. Rewrote the parts that were woeful, spend hours on a paragraph, days rereading the text until I was happy with it. Develop new skills in the progress as I tackle problems with the story, its direction and the fact I can flutter between tenses more times than Vanessa Feltz can re-launch her career. Sounds pretty fucking ace but reality is that it can’t really happen and besides how long would the motivation last?

It’s at this point I tend to realise that I’m in another estate far, far away and my knees are creaking. I’m glad I think about those things but it usually makes me hungry too so I always end up heading to a Tesco Express and buying a Double Decker. Man I love that Chocolate bar.

Here is me walking along listening to The Acorn. I recommend them.