Tag: travel

~ The Ones That Get Away ~
short stories

~ The Ones That Get Away ~

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~ The Ones That Get Away ~

Out travelling the road of life, lost in the night of some foreign country, roaming the cobbled streets of the old town, kissing her under the moonlight. She was a lawyer, seven years older, with hazel eyes, brunette hair and the sort of Mediterranean look that made you think of fancy restaurants overlooking sparkling blue waters. She wore a flowery summer dress that showed off her hourglass figure; her ears adorned green jewelled earrings and she carried an expensive-looking designer purse under her left arm. I of course knew that these creatures of luxury were usually out of reach for a no-good, drifting nomad like myself, but for some reason the gods above had decided to back me this evening. Perhaps they were just having a laugh amongst themselves, but they had backed me and I had lured her in.

We had met about one hour before in a smoky traveller’s bar where our eyes had crossed paths as we both sat on stools staring wistfully into the time and space. I smiled, went over and asked if she too was also bored with existence. She looked up at me with piercing eyes and, after a second of awkwardness, the tension was cut with a friendly smile. From there on in we got talking and shared a drink: two whisky cokes with ice.

It was a few minutes into drinking and speaking that I began to realise she was slightly more upper-class than the girls I normally went after. As we chatted, she told me of the human rights court cases she had been working on; she told me of her education and how she owned her own apartment. She was too charming to be snobby about it or anything, but I quickly concluded that she was definitely a little more sophisticated than the girls you normally met in these dingy backpacker bars. With this in mind, I tried to come across as a regular, upstanding member of human society. I talked about politics and the economy. I talked about the news and the weather. I tried and tried my very best, but after five minutes my cover was blown.

“You’re a little strange, aren’t you?” she said with a wry smile.

“Well, you’re the local lawyer sitting on your own in a backpacker bar.”

“Yeah, and so what? We all have our moments of madness. Besides, I’m not alone; I’m waiting for my friend behind the bar. She finishes in an hour.” I looked over where a blonde girl was mixing a cocktail behind the bar.

“One hour?” I said. “Why don’t we go for a walk somewhere else, to another bar, or perhaps you can give me a private tour of your town? You know: teach me the history and all that? I am a tourist in your country after all.” She took a long sip of her drink while staring into my soul, making me wait – making me guess. The look in those hazel eyes told me that she knew I was full of shit, but finally she agreed anyway. We finished our drinks and ventured off out into the night.

After exiting the bar, we wandered through the winding streets of the old town with no particular destination other than the present moment. We passed busy bars and restaurants. We walked along the waterfront of the harbour. We made small talk about my travels and she told me how I was brave and how she had always wanted to travel alone. It was something I had heard from many people while out on my travels. Damn near enough everybody in society wanted to quit their job and travel the world – like always, I didn’t understand why so very few actually did it.

Eventually we stopped under a streetlight down one of the side streets. With no one around, we embraced and shared a kiss in the silence of the night. We then stared into each other’s eyes and I made a comment about whether she always went for guys seven years younger than her. She let out a little laugh and suddenly – for about the fifth time that year – I was hopelessly in love with a stranger. At that moment all I wanted to do was to swim into her eyes and drown myself. It was a feeling I knew all too well. Not just then, but I regularly had this feeling – an overwhelming feeling of total reckless abandonment to something or anything or everything. Often all I wanted to do was to abandon myself to the world, to the wonders, to the women. I wanted to get lost in those foreign countries, lost down those old cobbled lanes – lost again and again in the eyes of those beautiful strangers. I was reckless, I knew, and possibly insane…

Even if we somehow formed some sort of relationship it wouldn’t have been long before she realised I was completely incompatible with the regular life she wanted. Women like this wanted structured and stable men. They wanted men who could be husbands, men who could be fathers – men who could stay in one place and commit and raise children and talk to their neighbours about the weather over the garden face. The problem was that I was none of those things. I was a wayward wanderer, a restless dreamer with itchy feet – a piece of trash caught in the wind being whipped around by the pull of my own gypsy heart.

Looking further into her eyes, I thought about the alternative to the mess and madness that was my own chaotic life. It was true that somewhere inside a part of me wanted to be a regular human-being sometimes, but the problem was to do that you were supposed to solidify things. Houses were supposed to be cemented down; relationships were supposed to last; job positions were meant to be held for years and not months. It’s not like I didn’t understand what was to be done in order to be a functioning member of the human race, it’s just that I couldn’t seem to do it even if I wanted to. Something had gone wrong in my DNA or upbringing. My mind was possessed by a great fire; my spirit was caught in a wild storm. This woman was beautiful, mentally stable and deemed successful in society’s eyes as a lawyer. She had a chance – she had a strong chance at a normal, healthy life. But what chance did someone like me have? I was a nomadic fool who couldn’t even stay put in one place or job position for a full year. I couldn’t maintain any relationships. I couldn’t even drive a goddamn car. The gods may have backed me tonight in the short game, but long distance I was sure they wouldn’t have touched me. The game was a fix and there was no chance – there was just absolutely no goddamn chance.

After a while, we carried on strolling around through the lanes and streets. We petted a stray cat and followed it down an alleyway. We kissed again against a beaten old wall. We kissed once more around the back of the town church. Eventually we moved into a small, secluded square where I twirled her around and watched her flowery dress dance in the midnight breeze. The moment was damn near perfect, but it was sad – it was sad for some reason I couldn’t quite say.

“You know, I have to work this weekend, but I will be free on Monday. If you’d like to hang around town then maybe we could spend some more time together? We could take a boat to one of the islands. I’d like to see you again.” She smiled and stared into my eyes. I smiled back, stalling, my mind exploding with a million and one thoughts.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I said finally.

“Good… I like you. Even if you are a little younger, and a backpacker.” She gave that same wry smile that just about knocked me out on the floor. I looked at her then glanced up towards the night sky, wondering why the gods liked to inflict such pain upon us all.

Eventually she checked the time and saw that she had to go back to the bar and meet her friend. They were going to the gig of a friend and she asked me if I’d like to join, but it didn’t feel right, so I said no. She gave me her contact details and said we’d talk again, and that she hoped that I would wait around town to spend some time with her, and then I gave some phoney agreement and immediately hated my own guts. I said that we’d meet again, knowing that I already had a bus booked out of town in two days’ time. It was an empty promise I’d made with many women out there across the world. I’d said it to women in Asia. I’d said it to women in South America. I’d said it to women in Australia and New Zealand. But the reality was always the same: I never saw any of them again. They drifted out of sight forever like ghosts into the haunting mists of mind and memory. They went on to forget me and sit entwined with other men on sofas somewhere in suburban neighbourhoods of stability and sanity.

Before going I gave her one last kiss, said goodbye and watch her skip away like some rare deer into the night. She rounded a corner and just like that she was gone forever. Drenched in the silent solitude of foreign lands, I stood alone in the night once more. I would have thought that I’d have gotten used to this scenario by now, but for some reason this night the thought of what just happened consumed me. As I walked back to my hostel under those flickering streetlights, a sad feeling filled my flesh and bones. There was just something different about this time – about this woman. It was in her eyes. Deep down in those hazel eyes, I could see the alternative life so many other men my age would go on to live. I could see myself being a settled soul with a steady job, coming home to a loving wife and kids. I could see myself going on summer vacations and walking in the park together. I could imagine the polka dot dresses she would wear to our anniversary meals. I could imagine the way she would smile at me in bed on a Sunday morning. Such thoughts weighed heavy on my mind and I gradually got lost in all of them – entertaining them, playing with them, torturing myself with them – but I knew deep inside of me that it was a reality far out of reach.

On Sunday I was heading further down the coast, leaving her behind like all the others. I already had my ticket and hostel booked and I wasn’t going to change my plan. After all, what would actually happen in the long run when she discovered who I really was? It was nothing more than a slip of character and in a moment of clarity, I allowed myself to retreat back to the acceptance of the wretch I was. Catching my reflection in a window, I knew deep down in my bones I didn’t belong with a woman like that. I was still just a piece of trash caught in the breeze whose fate was to keep getting lost in those foreign countries, lost in those strange towns – lost in the eyes of those beautiful strangers. The world of stability and security she resided in was never meant for me. Instead, I belonged wandering with the wind, hurtling over the horizon, swept by gusts of curiosity that left me staring out of bus windows knowing that I was doomed and destined never to step off and belong to one particular place or person or community.

Sure enough, it was two days later when I boarded my bus alone and watched the town drift slowly out of sight. Holding a ticket to some vague place beyond the horizon, I pressed my head against that familiar bus window and stared out at the passing countryside. As I watched the towns and farms go past, I reflected on the night with the girl and thought about what it would have been like to see her again. Many thoughts went through my head, but as I sat there and stared out the window a bit longer, I gradually felt my mind begin to shift back to its familiar state of being excited for what was over the next horizon. Maybe I was a bad guy or even just mentally disturbed, but whatever it was I knew that this was a sickness that couldn’t be cured by any drug, job or pretty woman with hazel eyes. It was right there and then that I realised with a sense of horror that I may never find the cure to whatever form of madness it was that consumed me. If a beautiful woman like that couldn’t get me to change my plan, then I just had to accept I was doomed. If a beautiful woman like that couldn’t get me to change my plan, then I just had to sit back and accept that no matter where I went in this world, or how many years passed me by, I would always just be that young boy out exploring the world, wide-eyed and curious, moving from town to town, drinking in smoky bars, falling in love with strangers, wandering down old cobbled lanes, staring wistfully out of bus windows – eternally and hopelessly lost in the dream of what it is to exist.

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short stories

~ The Voice Of Insanity ~

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~ The Voice of Insanity ~

“Back again from the road, looking out at that grey, grey world. That concrete world. That mechanical world. At another crossroad of life, once again it seemed like I had all but two choices: to join the herd, surrender myself to the system and let the normality of everyday life slowly suffocate my soul, or to just let go further and go more and more insane. It was true that by now I was sure I was in some strange minority of the human race. Sure, I had done all the personality tests and tried to psychologically analyse myself, but it really wasn’t necessary. The fact that I was allergic to every cultural task, to every bit of small-talk – to every social expectation and tradition that surrounded me – meant there was absolutely no chance for me to ever fit into my surrounding society. The searing pain I felt at even the smallest task of convention told me that trying to be a part of that world would probably leave me as a future suicide case. I didn’t want that to happen, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. A haunting voice whispered inside my ear and told me to keep on going on my path – to keep on wandering towards some sort of personal salvation and nirvana out there in the wild. Perhaps it was the sinister voice of madness trying to lure me over to the other side of sanity, but at times it seemed that voice was the best friend I had – the only one to reliably guide me through the dark swamps and forests I so often found myself in.

It was funny when I thought more about it – those voices you followed; those voices that guided you; those paths you walked. When I also looked at my idols – the writers, philosophers, adventurers and artists – and thought about their story, it seemed like they too had followed that same voice through the wilderness. Perhaps that’s why those souls had appealed to me from such a young age. In many ways they were just like me. In a species that requires individuals to conform and lose their adventurous spirit and creativity in order to uphold the mechanical system of society, the ones who are possessed by the need to express themselves and perpetually explore their inner and outer worlds were destined to lose their minds among the static masses. When walking those concrete streets and facing out at the grey absurdity of it all, I understood why they chose instead to go insane. It made sense why they chose to sit in dark rooms and write until their fingers bled, to try every drug and meditation under the sun, to climb the mountains, to live in camper-vans, to play the blues – to create great works of art and then blow their brains out with a shotgun. This is what had to be done; for some this was the only way to save oneself from the pain of a scripted life, to escape the automatic life on the cultural conveyor-belt – to fiercely protect the wild soul inside of them from being captured and killed by the mundane requirements of everyday civilian life.

Yeah, maybe they were madmen, or masochists, or simply deluded – and maybe I was too – but for me they were the only people I truly understood in the core of my heart. No matter how many years passed me by, I still couldn’t stomach or accept the life society expected me to live. And coming back again from the road once more, it was clear that I probably never would. My basic realisation each morning was always the same: I was a conscious, living organism riding a spinning rock through a universe full of exploding stars, black holes, and infinite horizons. The possibilities to life should have been endless, but mostly you we were subjected to a life of routine and monotony and trivia. Why was it like this? Was it all some kind of cruel prank? Maybe I had I got off at the wrong stop, or the gods had made a mix-up in the planetary warehouse when sending me here?

Whatever the case, it was clear that the only thing for me to now do was to keep on following that voice through the misty wilderness. For me this is what had to be done; for me this was the answer. I was to continue on my path. I was to abandon myself to art and adventure. I was to keep on following that voice through the wild. And yes, maybe it would lead to me madness, but I simply no longer cared. For some that place of madness is the last refuge of freedom from the machine. For some that place is the only realm in which the free spirit can survive. For some – in a world where sanity meant a life of slow suffocation – going insane is the gasp of fresh air that keeps them alive.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

thoughts

~ In Search ~

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 ~ In Search ~

“It doesn’t matter if you die in a ditch or a mansion; both have the same end result. The only that matters – the only thing that ever matters – is what you do with the time you have here. We all grow out of the universe but many a life is denied its full blossoming due to the fear of failure or being different. Too many of us abandon our passions due to the influence of others. Gripped by an urge to fit in amongst the tribe, we instead choose to dwell in the darkness of living a life untrue to ourselves. We settle for the mundane and our homes and buildings become populated with the ghosts of the lives that were not fully lived.

For me it was that haunted darkness which drove me out into the world. Whenever I was on the road, I often witnessed the blossoming of a wilted flower. I looked into people’s eyes and could see people finally shining in the light of an overdue dawn, living life with the kind of inner joy they knew they deserved. The air was filled with electricity and there was a sense that anything was possible. It was in moments like that when you realised the true power of picking up that backpack. It was in those moments when you realised the value of wandering over the horizon. It was in those moments when you stepped back and realised that the real journey – the real adventure – had only just begun.”

(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

thoughts

~ Down And Out On The Road ~

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~ Down And Out On The Road ~

“I awoke with a dry mouth and my head aching with the aftermath of the previous night’s exploits. The girl was gone and I lay there, alone again, in a strange hostel room. I looked at my backpack, beaten and battered and bruised on the floor. I now only had a few items of clothes left and my wallet confirmed I had burnt through all my money again. There was a sadness in the air and the fading ink on my passport cover told me I would soon be a ghost. Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and roamed the streets in search of sustenance. After devouring some cheap street-food, I made it to the beach and stood there staring out into the ocean. Somewhere on the other side of that great mass of water was the land of home – the land where I could have been suited and booted up like a regular member of the human race. I imagined myself waking to an alarm clock, fighting through traffic jams, working a conventional job and chatting about the football down the pub. I imagined the routine, the television shows, the suburban lawns and quiet desperation as I slowly and statically sank into unfulfilled old age. Maybe I was down and out in foreign lands, but returning home to that would surely finish me off. I didn’t belong to that world and the only way to save myself was to dive deeper into the abyss – deeper into the chaos – deeper into the wilderness. With a hungover heart and a mind stained with madness, the only way out was to continue wandering into the wild like an abandoned dog trying to find his way home.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

thoughts

~ Contrast Settings ~

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~ Contrast Settings ~

“When the colour of your life begins to dim – seek adventure. For though the world can often appear bleak in the adult way of work and survival, the open road provides moments where the greyness fades and you return to the infant-like state of seeing. Suddenly, among new sights and new smells and new possibilities, everything is again magical and mysterious. Suddenly you face the world like a wide-eyed child in an amusement park of flashing lights. Suddenly the mist of monotony clears like early morning fog, and life shines bright in brilliant colour once more.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

articles

~ Closed Curtains; Closed Mind – The Dangers Of A Sedentary Lifestyle ~

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A fish out of water; a classic car rusting in a garage; a bird in a cage.

Some things in this world just simply aren’t meant to exist in certain environments. Disregarding the qualities that makes them such wonders of life, art and magnificence, it makes our heart ache when we witness such beings go to waste during their precious and powerful moments here in the universe. Contained wonder; contained raw power – a true travesty of existence that leaves most compassionate people with a sense of melancholy when witnessing such unnatural sights as a fish flapping helplessly on sand, or a bird hesitating to spread its wings because of the metal bars three inches in front of its beak. These things do not belong in said environments, we tell ourselves – in is not natural, and it is not just. But in looking at these things and concluding such thoughts, sometimes we need to look in the mirror, look back upon the reflection and ask: what about humans? What about ourselves?

Of all the creatures on planet earth, we are by far the most complex and intellectually powerful. With the tool-set to explore, interact, construct and create, me and you have the dexterity and intelligence to build skyscrapers and climb to the top of mountains; we have the utter depth of language to connect with people from all around the world and go on journeys, start adventures, live dreams, share knowledge and discuss complex ideas. No other being can even get remotely close to the level of communication me and you have right now in the writing, reading and understanding of these words and sentences. In human history our kind has culminated such physical, linguistic and intellectual excellence to sail around the world, write novels, build satellites, fly into space, climb the tallest mountains, run the longest races and break the unbreakable records.

But as majestic and advanced as we are, we are not invincible and – just like the aforementioned creatures – we are also vulnerable and at risk when we are to enter unnatural environments; ironically one which is self-created in the form of a sedentary lifestyle that permeates our daily routine living. Such a way of living comes from an overexposure to technology and a society that places us in one place and often tires us out, leaving many of us not to explore, build, exercise, learn and interact with the world – but to instead live a life of stillness – one where we remain indoors and incessantly consume media as we degenerate our health and complex minds. In doing so we become the salmon out of water, the Chevrolet rusting in the garage, the eagle in the cage. We become the very thing that so often leaves us with a sense of melancholy and sadness – our abilities to explore, build, run and discover contained by a lifestyle choice of closed living.

The effects are deadly. Health campaigners against sedentary living warn that such lifestyles can be linked to as many deaths a year as smoking, with the risk of falling victim to fatal heart diseases rising by 64% when one maintains a sedentary lifestyle. Amongst this, research papers conducted on the public also attribute health problems such as depression, diabetes and even dementia. The problem goes beyond such physical health problems though – it rocks our foundations of mental and spiritual well-being. How can we as people aspire to become learned and knowledgeable about the world when our windows to it become sensationalist tabloid-newspapers and trashy, unimaginative television? How can we learn to talk to people and develop our empathy when we physically interact less and less each day? Whereas a lack of exercise will degenerate our bodies, an over-consumption of media and lack of real world empirical experience will degenerate our minds.

Sure, the technological aspects of the information era present to us many advancements in the world. Computers and their capabilities act as the veins of society; TV news brings us far-off events to the comfort of our homes; our phones make it easier to connect than ever before. But to leave this world completely unregulated, place too much emphasis on it and let this static consumption totally replace our natural environment is unnatural and damaging. In a world where technology is becoming increasingly ubiquitous, we need to seek to experience people, events, and places not through profit-driven media, but through travel, exercise and exploration. We should learn not through word of mouth and gossip, but by empirical experiences and real tangible things. These are the things that help us evolve mentally, physically and spiritually – not a static and still sedentary lifestyle that is counterproductive to the evolutionary process that has made us all such advanced beings in the first place.

You and I were meant for so much more than a still lifestyle. So let’s put the fish back in the water, fire up the rusty old Chevrolet one more time and release the eagle from the cage. Take flight. Walk, run or cycle once a day; integrate travelling movement and learning into lifestyles. On the journey of evolution let our lives count for positive, adventurous and progressive strides, not static and still ones. Because as far as you and I go, we are only here once – so let’s use this time to utilise the tools that make us the most advanced species here on earth. Get up from the chair, open the curtains, open our minds, explore, dream, learn, move and discover.

thoughts

~ Out Of Character ~

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~ Out of Character ~

“I thought I was walking into the wonderful wilderness of life but suddenly I found myself upon a stage. The spotlight shone down on me and I was forcefully ushered in one direction. I was then given a state-approved script to follow and a character to play. Slightly confused, I looked down at that script, opened it up and read away. As I scanned through the lines I quickly realised I had little to zero interest in it. From what I could see it was a bad play. The plot was stale, the acts monotonous, and the characters one-dimensional. According to their script I was supposed to define my entire existence in the universe by a singular job title. I was supposed to buy things I didn’t need to seek the approval of people I didn’t like. I was supposed to save for a distant retirement while toiling away the best years of my life in some company that saw me as a number on the screen.

I was only young, and I faced pressure from people all around me to join their little stage act, but I decided to toss their script in the bin and walk off the stage. Screw them, I thought, and screw anyone who tells another person the way they have to live their life. I’m not sure why I was spawned on this planet with these strange humans hiding behind masks but it certainly wasn’t to ‘fit in’, pay bills and die. Life is precious and I will not waste it doing things I have no interest in just because it’s culturally expected. I will not allow my imagination and creativity to be slowly murdered by a blinking television screen. I will not sit in traffic jams every week of my life as the fire in my eye slowly fades. No, no, no: I will not allow any of those things to happen because I am here to make my life a beautiful adventure. I am here to help and inspire others to live a life true to themselves. Even if it means an early death, I am here to live a life that fills me with so much wonder and passion and joy that the flowers around my grave blossom with the colours of insanity and freedom.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

thoughts

~ Overcoming The Fear of Flying ~

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~ Overcoming the Fear of Flying ~

“Always we look up at those birds in the sky and daydream about taking flight. But we rarely think about the fact that those birds are just doing what they are born to do – spreading their wings and flying. We are all human-beings and while we may not have wings to fly, we sure as hell have legs to run, fingers to write, mouths to sing and a whole damn world to explore. The only way for us to be like the birds is to just do the things which come profoundly naturally – the things we feel deep down we were born to do. To some that could be painting, it could be surfing or climbing mountains; to some maybe it’s even something as simple as gardening. Whatever it is, the only way to taste the freedom of flight, is to allow ourselves to do the things which make us feel absolutely weightless. In this increasingly convoluted world, it’s easy to let our lives become a chore of convention and expectation, but the day we neglect the nature of our soul is the day that the sky has one bird less. A human-being who spends their whole life ignoring their true inner nature is simply the bird that refused to spread its wings. A human-being who is prevented from doing that by another, is a bird that has been captured and caged. Don’t let either of those bleak scenarios happen. In our darkest moments, we all secretly know we could do with a few more free birds up there to inspire us all. So, go on – let go and take a leap of faith. Don’t let the weight of this world grind you down. Jump the nest of comfort and convention. Follow your instinct. Hunt that horizon. Explore your passion.

Spread those wings and become what you were born to be.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

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~ The Movement Of Life ~

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~ The Movement of Life ~

“Move. You were born to move. From the very second you entered this earth you were born to move. Before you could talk, you cried; before you could walk, you crawled. Wild and curious, you grew and explored the world around you. First was your home and your school, then it was your street and your neighbourhood – then your city and its fields. As the weeks went by, your world and horizons opened up and everything became bigger as you grew into the universe around you. You dreamt, you learnt, you explored, you wandered – and you moved. Because that was the most important thing; that was what was natural. To move and to grow. But what happens? What happens as you get older?

Your natural curious instinct to move and explore is stifled out of you. You become an adult and are asked to decide on things that ultimately make you static. You’re asked to have a job in a singular building in which to spend your adult life saving to buy a static house that ultimately compounds and cements one’s lack of movement. Your range of movement that once soared week-in, week-out as you grew into your world becomes reduced to the simple repetitive commute to work, the few square metres in the building of the work space and the same old journey to the supermarket and pub at the weekend. Too tired after work, you park yourself down on the sofa to watch a box in front of you every night. Your mental and spiritual world also becomes ever-harder to expand and explore; with time constraints and a grinding exhausting routine, there is no time to write that book, to learn that language or to play that instrument. You are too tired and too busy. So you no longer explore, you no longer wander – and you no longer move.

But it’s not all your natural state of being; a lack of movement in intrinsic to a lack of life after all – no movement consequently suggests no life. If one lets their physical and mental movement decline exponentially then they are left living less and less each day as they descend into old age. And so you have to respond. To live to your fullest and make the most of now, you have to move. Whoever you are, in whatever capacity, in whatever format. Go running before or after work; find time to work on your passion; travel to a new place on the weekend; save up all your money to go on an adventure – an exploration, a journey, a voyage. If you’re young and have no responsibilities to attain to, then travel and live on the other side of the world, in a new culture, a new landscape. If you’re old and encumbered with responsibilities then embrace them – take your kids to new places, try new things in your spare time, seek to learn something new and break bad habits.

    Exercise. Exercise your body, your rights of freedom, your right to explore, grow and be happy. The ability to run, to cycle, to jump or to climb is due to the ownership of the greatest device one can ever own. Your body is the most valuable piece of equipment you will ever have the privilege to operate – a privilege that is fully denied to many others. So make the most of your mobility and feel the power of your existence as you tread the earth’s vibrant soil and run through space and time. Make the most of your mobility and move.

    And keep moving. Don’t let your movement decrease; ever. Stay hungry, stay wild. Your movement is the exercise of your life, your process of being conscious, alive and a part of this universe. It’s what quantifies your existence in this moment right here – right now. Never let your life slow down to the point where you are sitting still and killing time; not while you have the ability to run, fly and soar into the space around you. Just remember that the day all your movement decreases completely and you cease to move and look forward, mentally and physically, will ultimately be the last day of your life. To move is to live. So get up, open your horizons, explore your passions, plan your adventures, keep growing and keep moving. Always.”

(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)

thoughts

~ The Art Of Go ~

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~ The Art of Go ~

“Go. Beyond those desks; beyond those suburbs. Go with a heavy heart and a light backpack. Go to the lands beyond your horizons, beyond your doubts, beyond your cosy little comfort zones. The most extraordinary things will not come knocking on your door; the greatest treasures are not discovered by those dwelling in their caves. This world is a living dream waiting to be explored. Every day it creates heroes, moves mountains and changes people forever. So go and explore. Don’t let the others drag you down. Go beyond them and their fences of fear; go into the lands which you have not yet trampled; go to the places where the lightning strikes as the eyes blaze bright like burning stars.

Just get up now and for god sake Go.”

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(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)