I find it both strange and invigorating to find myself surrounded by beautiful people. Their beauty is individual and inspiring and combined they make me feel better about myself. I want to automatically ‘be more’ if you hear what I am saying. It is so easy to fall into the trap of dogma and depression that if you don’t regularly take stock of your situation, you may find yourself on the wrong side of the tracks.
My family, for example is filled with ‘alpha’ personalities, with respect to their approach to life and the adventurers spirit. We have all travelled and would do so again at the drop of a hat and in so doing amass another spirited adventure tale that will be repeated at any occasion and to anyone who is willing to hear it “again”
I secretly fear that it may be arrogance or ego that motivates us to repeat them but ‘Damn’ we have fun and the tales are all based on actual events. So I dare not exclude my tales, for the enjoyment is both in the telling and in the rekindling of that spirit we often lack due to our responsibilities and work etc. I am currently bogged down and treading water has become an Olympic sport in my life but I do have land in sight and am slowly making headway.
I miss the old days, you remember them. Those days filled with endless hours sitting around a camp fire listening to the frontiersmen telling us tales of their adventures. Grandpa was there sitting with a blanket over his knees, coaxing his pipe to life, a flurry of smoke every now and again wafting over everyone’s head. He always had this amused look on his face when he would think of the old days. He would smooth down his moustache before starting a story and it always started with the words “I remember a time when…” We would sit spellbound and he would carry us off into the night with stories of war, or his days as a miner. Adventures he lived through on horseback and then the sweet love of his life would always feature prominently.
There was of course the camp fires surrounded by desert were weary travellers would hold up for a day or two and the stories of their travels to far off exotic lands would ignite our imagination and lust for the open road again. The nomads would arrive in groups of four or five and water their animals before settling down to a meal. I can still smell the dust of the roads they had just travelled and remember the struggle to distinguish their accents. Over yonder always sounded better than around the corner and beyond that sea was always more enticing than across the water.
Why do we not relive these experiences more often, and how is it that we have lost that comradeship that bound all weary travelers to a single meal instantly. I remember coming back from the crusades on those cold winter nights, the skins I wore hung wet and heavy across my shoulders. The sword dull with a mixture of blood and dirt from battle. Triumph was soon a matter of the past when a meal and a soft bed where offered. I can distinctly recall the look on those faces as we neared the campsite. From being slumped over the pommel from exhaustion to riding tall as victors.
Expressions of faith and fairytales were played by actors on a stage, which often took place at the drop of a hat. People would dress up and carry their picnics with them to sit on the balconies or on the lawn surrounding the stage to drift off into a land of intrigue and adventure. Villains’ were bad and the hero’s always astride a white steed. Damsels were coy and reserved and gentlemen were gentlemen through and through.
Those were the days, and they dulled over the years into obscurity and humanity has swopped it for what? Fast cars, fast food and even faster women have become the norm. We as a society need to sit still, without the phones, televisions, and gadgets to contemplate life for what it was, has become and will be in the future. We seem to have lost the ‘human touch’ which is a sad thought. Everyone for themselves which goes against the laws of nature but gratification of our senses seems to be the order of the day now.
I for one will invest in a dining room table, big enough to fit twelve people or more, situated in an open room with a natural fireplace for those cold winter nights. I may even learn to play the piano and have that situated in the same room. I will swop the tungsten and florescent light bulbs for soft candle glow and oil lamps will serve more than a decorative purpose. There will be a comfortable relaxed and gracious air to the occasion and manners and respect will be in place.
I know I am babbling again but I so miss the authentic air of yesteryear that I do think we should pay more attention to being human and less attention to being ‘materialistic gratification addicts’
Thus done and said, on the 1st day of February in the year of our good Lord 2011