WanderingDan’s Weblog

Epiphanies of an unraveling gypsy
July 17, 2013, 8:27 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Looking in the mirror I see I have become the physical embodiment of my idealized antithesis of a clean-cut, clean-shaven, nicely attired Steiner acupuncturist. Wind-blown and curly hair, getting longer day by day, five weeks of scruffy beard…though admittedly I’ve shaved my neck when it has gotten too itchy…outdoor hiking clothes and my tie-dye Bob Marley T-shirt. I am looking how I envisioned myself when trapped on the floating metal box of the QE, with one exception…I haven’t locked my hair. Will I? Not sure, I guess we’ll have to see. Generally speaking however, my outside better reflects my inside, or so I feel.

 I’ve been wandering five or six weeks now. Despite the freedom, the care-free nature in which I drift from place to place, adventure to adventure, a sense of urgency to begin the next chapter is rolling to a boil within. Why? Is it an American acculturation to always push, push, push for success and the ‘next level’, or perhaps I am hesitant to accept the fact at my core lies a high-strung over-achiever who goes to great lengths trying to hide it (though I doubt many people are fooled). Maybe it’s a little bit of each. I wait here on the train platform for the 11:30 to Edinburgh, void of either excited or negative emotion. I am just simply ‘here’. I guess this is the state of zen peace I’ve always read about but never really grasped in entirety. My care-less-ness now isn’t a rebellious apathy against corpocracy or a state of general drunken disregard. Genuinely, I’m experiencing complete neutrality, neither enjoying nor lamenting; simply existing on this maroon painted bench, with the comfortably cool wind making a rat’s nest of my hair. This past week on my hike through the Highlands, an ever-increasing respect for the quiet, peaceable things of life has further positioned itself as the core nucleus of my emerging modus operandi. I really wish to be done with unnecessary complexity and the vain ambitions usually surrounding such a cluster-fuck existence. The more distance I put between myself and the distractions, the more I want to keep increasing said distance: whether it’s the unquenchable thirst for technology, dogmatic religion, mentally stifling pop-culture or the machines of greedy acquisition. I have more stability, emotionally and existentially, when these are kept at a distance. Perhaps this is the root of my growing aversion to cities and draw to the countryside, my renewed love of literature and growing distaste for televised media, why I find a woman with natural hair and a book in her hand far sexier than a barbie on a cell phone.

 I’m on the train now, heading through the mountain pass of Cairngorm National Park. The high hills still have a wee bit of snow…I understand it’s not uncommon, even in late July. The time I’ve spent in the wilderness of northern Scotland has done a lot to help me sort out priorities and preferences. I wonder how going to Edinburgh will affect me? Every city I’ve visited since Brugge has sent me screaming for rural peace. I anticipate this may be the same, but for some reason today I’m at peace with the prospect…maybe because I haven’t arrived yet. And so the journey ensues.


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