Travel Sickness

I awake startled, my heart pounding like tribal drums desperately trying to summon rain. My mouth is dry and my skin clammy. Two glazed eyes pop open reluctantly – where am I? Oh yeah I’m home – wherever that is. I check the clock and to my disgust it’s 4am again - no there’s no train to run for this morning.

When I catch a glimpse at the clock again it’s 10am. I scrape together the last few ‘coppers’ of energy to make a piping hot cup of tea and gaze out the window, with the intention of losing myself in the morning. My plan to hit the floor running has run out of runway.

It was always going to be a challenge: acclimatising back to life after being on the road for 5 weeks. And what a truly enriching and exciting 5 weeks it was. During the last few days of the trip something bizarre happened. I would be drinking in the sights and sounds, yet my body and mind would be completely numb.. not so much as a raised eyebrow in acknowledgement. Taking stock I returned home with a wallet full of currencies but I wasn’t rich in the traditional sense.

Speaking about it to some of my fellow ‘travellites’ I discover the condition has a diagnosis: travel numbness. The senses overwhelmed, start to shut down forcing you to process the events you’ve experienced. And such things do take time to process… sometimes you need a dark room to develop the negatives to see the bigger picture.

Since I arrived home over a month ago it’s been a struggle to get going. I can liken it to attempting to ride a bicycle whilst it’s still chained to the lamppost. I found myself at my desk and the piano trying unsuccessfully to write. Frustrated and dejected I gave up and settled for a long walk along the coast, hoping to find some solace in the crashing waves.

I have to say there is something majorly addictive about being lost every day - having a plan but ‘going with the flow’. In an attempt to break my writer’s block I drafted a personal letter to a friend – going through the motions came somewhat as a relief (perhaps the equivalent of a laxative for creatives). Could it be possible to have travel sickness when you’re home in the same sense you are homesick when you are away?

Sometimes words are not enough, pictures can’t paint a full story – not even a song can do it justice. You have to go out there and live it all over again differently in Technicolor and HD. And whilst I still have sand in my shoes in so many different ways – I have been taught a valuable lesson by recent events. Seize the day, make every day an adventure.

So where to now old chum?

#DiaryOfACreativeSoul coming soon…

Coridoor Of Lights

Heart stops.  Mouth goes dry.  Breathing ceases. Brain begins to rationalise.   Desperate fingers frantically dial loved ones. *Click* A familiar voice answers “hello” on the other end.  Heart resumes normal service.

A sigh of relief - if only only short lived. Relief turns swiftly to guilt with a burning pang of sorrow for the irreplaceable hearts and priceless souls, stolen away too soon – without any warning.  

What can I say? “sorry it was you and not me” – I’m sure that’s what I would think if I were you.

When we can find no words to comfort you - we will come bearing flowers and light candles. It wont be long before tyres will speed by at 70 miles an hour again. Life is in too much of a hurry to wait. But for a few fleeting moments, even those who never knew the ones you loved, or could possibly hope to understand your grief – held you in their hearts – albeit for a few precious moments.

A tiny corridor of flickering lights is a beautiful reminder we are all human after all…

Placing Fools On Pedestals

If you can hear a strange dripping noise - it’s not British summertime in full flow. It’s actually the last few drops of my faith in humanity draining away. Why? Last week the tiny, lifeless body of a Syrian child was washed up on Turkish shores. At the same time social media reached fever pitch around the controversy at the VMA’s. Can anybody spot something not quite right there?

Whilst thousands of men, women and children fled their homeland to safety…somewhere across the Atlantic something else was happening. US presidential candidate, Kanye ‘Peabrain’ West (an egomaniac stoner) lights a spliff, in-front of heavily pregnant first-lady-to-be: Kim ‘Birdbrain’ Kardashian (a reality TV/pornstar). Errm…what?

Can somebody please explain to me who these morons are and why they are everywhere I look? Why exactly have people taken to worshiping an egomaniac and an irrelevant woman with a fat arse? It seems we have an unhealthy obsession with placing fools on pedestals.

It seems we are quite happy to take 5 minutes to sign a petition to deport big mouth Katie Hopkins - in exchange for Syrian refugees. Happy to take 5 minutes to ‘troll the troll’ but not so happy to use the time to understand what is ACTUALLY happening in Syria and why.

I have news for you. Kim K’s arse, along with Kanye’s head and Katie’s mouth will continue to grow larger by the day. Why? Because they are hungry for fame and power - and we are feeding them! We feed them whilst many others in the world will go to bed hungry and what’s worse - they might not wake up.

Whilst you slurp back on your extra large, extra skinny Starbucks and flick nonchalantly through your OK magazine - has it occurred to you that you are paying more tax because the corporate machine supplying your caffeine fix has manipulated the system to avoid paying tax? Does that make you even slightly angry?

If by some miracle the botox hasn’t already spread to your brain - please adjust your priorities. You were given a pair of eyes: if you can’t see - look harder. You were given a heart - use it to love unconditionally. If you don’t know the answers - ask the right questions. Please don’t spend your life in ignorance, trawling through selfies and pictures of people’s dinners. There’s a world out there - it’s falling apart and only you can save it.