The world is vast and huge. Big doesn’t really do it any justice in truly describing it. It’s almost an insult to call it big. I started grasping just how vast it is in my own personal travels. And I think that is key when you start to truly understand that yourself, from your perspective and living experiences. Not from somebody else’s, or some travel bloggers. Take the DRC for example; it is the size of all of Western Europe, and no one barely knows this. Let alone has an inclination to go and explore that huge land mass that makes up all of the war torn, blood stained ground that it inhabits in Central Africa. King Leopold of Belgium put that nuanced and battle scarred land into his personal land title, and he plunged it into a raping and pillaging frenzy bar none. He all but committed the holocaust of the 21st century with his bloodthirsty crusade for ivory and rubber yet hardly a western soul knows anything about this. The DRC is but one example of a country and story that exists all over the world. There are many countries that have incredibly powerful and jarring historical accounts that we may never even know or hear about due to most people’s blinkers that they happily wear to all but their own immediate little worlds. Or because the mass media just doesn’t cover what doesn’t ’pay the bills’ by way of views. Is it due to routine? Comfort? A lack of curiosity? I don’t know. But I do know that I don’t want to fall prey to that sort of a life.
I have a thirst and hunger for adventure. That is no surprise. I have to see and do things that are not the norm, even by my standards. And I am forever grateful that what I’ve chosen as my vocation and profession allows me to see new and wonderful places as often as I possibly can, or whenever work calls. I like to do as much as possible, even if it’s to try everything I can just once. To sit with local people in their kitchens and eat as they would, to drink wine with them and meet each other on a neutral ground somewhere in the hazy land between the main course and dessert, and I want to do it all on my terms with my trusty dogs at my side, sprawled on some couch, or next to a fireplace after we’ve worked the previous nights indulgences off in some cathedral like mountains, getting closer to whatever it is that we all individually are seeking.
Four years ago I had no clue if I’d ever be able to see my local restaurant, let alone some of the inspiring and wild places I have seen and walked in. Life is a journey, of that I have no doubt, but it is also a gift. And trust me when i say that.
My promise to myself was to see and do as much as I can, whilst I’m still young, strong, healthy and alive enough to do so, to smile and laugh when I’m stranded with 5 punctures instead of cursing the gods, to sit back and be grateful that I do what I do when the worst group of clients are in my hands, instead of wanting to test my mangled knuckles out a few times more, and to walk and climb the harshest, steepest mountains possible, instead of lounging around with my feet up on a couch. Life’s about balance, sure, I’ve slowly grasped that notion, but when it is time to move and be active, I intend to do so with a vigour and zeal that can only be matched and surpassed by that of my trusty hounds.
I want the Shepherding Winds to blow me wherever I need to go, to live and do all that I need to do, and I want to do it on my terms with a handful of truly good people around me and a bus full of eager tails beating their crates like a booze fuelled rock stars drumsticks on his drum set.
Always chasing the horizon.