These four walls are compressing my mind into a bored and unimaginative blob who only wants to lie around and skip through the endless muck that is satellite TV. The longer my to-do list grows the less energy I have to even care about the mounting pressure to start anywhere. Routine sometimes cracks me over the skull and forces me to take a look at what this dull, monotonous, tedious humdrum is moulding me into.
“Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go”, battling through the daily grind – only to come home and face the same old household chores - preparing a meal, tending to the pets, watch some episode of a series, directed by a brain-dead, money hungry crew – displaying the same old clichés. Lock the gate and doors, shut the windows, switch the lights off and alarm on. Dabbling over the guess of happenings for tomorrow and the fading events of today; shutting an eye to rest the system.
Taking the dogs for a walk before the nation arises brings a kind of an eerie, free feeling – as if I’m alone with the critters, trees, grass and birds, singing their spring songs. It is then I decide to gather my binoculars and camera, upon returning home, and take a drive out of this environment which dispirits me sometimes.
“Life is what you make it”. “Happiness comes from within”. Talking clichés - if I walk into another bright spark, laying his “uplifting” wisdom upon me – I feel to drop him with my best shot. Sometimes it just gets to you, you know? Sometimes you just feel like giving yourself up to the blues and wallow in the depths of darkness. Sometimes you do feel like playing a riff of the blues, featuring the ancient acoustic rattle of Robert Johnson and just stagger mindlessly into the abyss of self-pity. Sometimes the forever enthusiastic and happy people give me a huge pain up my backside. Sometimes I just want to get away and find some plane of just being; or just to be left alone.
As I lay the miles down between the city and me, I already feel a mass being lifted from the brain lobe responsible for this inner depression. The toll gate was the last little twitch on my left cheek; now it’s the open road and some mountains in the distance – with a little help from Slow Hand. As Master Clapton gets to the pinnacle of “Running on faith” I make a conscious decision that faith has no play in the mishmash of emotion I left behind in the smog. I have faith in my instinct to take me to a place of peace on this amazing planet, in this (still) beautiful country, faith in my car because I look after her and expect no major fault to occur, but no faith in the things I cannot control. I just will not allow a brainwash into bullshitting me that the power I possess to keep my outlook on this life positive, comes from anywhere else than myself. The earth god may lead me to fruitful ground whereas the Sotho god may want to dump me in the graveyard to enrich the soil. While they are busy with the tug of war, I make a clean getaway.
Nirvana beacons in the form of a simple hut atop the mountain. It is cold and comfort is a far cry but the state of my mind is enriched by the simplicity of just being there and tending to the basic necessities to foresee the approaching night-time. The galaxy above pops out as if someone flicked a switch. The cold front winds swept all the dust particles out to sea and the moonless black night sky accentuates what seems like billions of sparkles – takes my breath away every time.
Having the fire crackling one side for some late supper (in form of a fresh piece of rump), a mug of boxed Merlot in my hand and no sound but the far off cry from a jackal in heat, I can just feel my mojo return tenfold.
Tonight I will sleep by this fire, under the dome of diamonds – gazing up every now and again to ensure my simple little being that life, as I perceive it to be, is still the most incredible journey anyone can ever undertake. Tonight the seemingly endless slog of routine and pressing walls will fade into oblivion. Tonight I will earth a bit to let go of all the angst, the swirling thoughts and preconceived ideas of tomorrow. Tonight I am just a speck of dust on this earth; I am nothing – I am just me.
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