9,000 Miles Can’t Stop Me Caring About My Library.

I’m sitting inside a library in Victoria, Australia as I type this.  There is a group of children using the second most important building blocks of life (after DNA), Lego of course.  There are a handful of people using the computers, another handful browsing the book shelves and one person using the photocopier.  That doesn’t  include the librarians filling those book shelves, overseeing the children and generally keeping the library serene and welcoming.  I’m over 9,000 miles away from the libraries I attended throughout childhood, adolescence and adulthood and I look at those times inside them that opened my eyes and heart a little wider and am dismayed to think any or all of them could close as a consequence of the next new abysmal decision from Tory government set to affect 10% or 400 UK libraries in the coming months and years.

 

The word library, for me, is synonymous with safety, wisdom, peace, past, future and of course books.  There is always solace to be found inside a library, whether you just want somebody to talk to – as a child I’d frequent my local library to borrow a book and seek out some wisdom or advice on anything from how to work a computer, to help with homework.  There is a community in strangers  where everybody respects the rules, offers a smile and is always willing to recommend a good book.  Within the community existing in strangers, a stronger community is built through new friendships.  Before I left home to set off on my travels I was blazing through books and comics borrowed from the library to make use of the free service of book borrowing and knowledge letting before breaking the seam on the books on my kindle.  Through that I would often be chatting to various librarians about the book(s) I was borrowing and what’s next for an author, character, series etc.  Now I find myself in the shire of Sale here in Gippsland, Victoria, nothing has changed, as part of the reason I write this cry for help for my libraries is through yet another hearty conversation with a librarian and how she advised me on memberships and what libraries can offer me, this stranger in a strange land.  One who will always be able to relax in the comfort of a library anywhere around this land down under.  No politics, no prejudice, just potency in kindness and duty to provide a slice of sanctity for any and all who walk over the threshold of a public library.

 

I’m massively let down and left almost hopeless at what’s to come in the future when an institution like the library – local councils are legally obliged to provide “comprehensive and efficient” library services as a duty under the 1964 Public Libraries and Museum Act – can be thrown by the way side by budget cuts and dismissive directives from governments wantonly slashing budget and pursuing profit.  Without getting too political on this matter, should the Conservative party tax the businesses, corporations and companies that they instead offer tax breaks to, then not only would libraries be as safe as they should but so too would the NHS.  To think these institutions are disposable shows flawed thinking and a diminished understanding of modern society.  How can a bastion of forward thinking, nurture and knowledge become a vestige of the same things?

Being a member of a library as a young boy introduced me to computers as a part of everyday life (and the infamous internet game ‘Copter’),  taught me books hold worlds and wonders beyond even my colourful and creative imagination, that age doesn’t pertain to boundaries of friendship amongst a myriad of fun events, passionate dispositions and encouragement.  I don’t need rose-tinted glasses for these memories, just a peek back into the library of the mind.  I look around this library I sit in now and see myself in the children fervently creating dinosaurs and spaceships with Lego and being encouraged by librarians for their stellar work.  A child needs that, a child needs to know that adults other than parents or family can believe in them and their ideas.  Everybody needs that but an unsure child, seeking a safe place in the library needs it more.  School can often be attributed to be that place and they should be but often aren’t.  The only authority inside the walls of a library is respect.  Respect the quiet, respect the librarians, the books, the people and learning to respect oneself.  And even when it’s time to leave you can take a book with you, for free!  That means so much, to be trusted with something that’s not yours but everybody’s when living in a deprived area.

So if you too are upset, frustrated or dismayed at the battles libraries may face then pop into your local, tell the librarians how much you appreciate them and their work, ask them if their are petitions or Facebooks groups you can sign and join.  Send a letter to your local MP and tell them how valued your library is and how its loss would be a loss for all of the community that surrounds it.

I hope anybody reading this also has fond memories of their own library and if not go make some.  Pop in and browse the book shelves because there is always a book or six that’s been hiding from you until that very moment you see it on a shelf.  There is normally a children’s area with colour in abundance and creativity all over, often housing the odd Dr Seuss or Roald Dahl story.  A section of sections where you can be the romantic or the righteous, the student or the smiler.  A young adult section can offer up the kind of morals wrapped in dystopia or wizarding worlds your mind needs at that stage of growth.  Computers have become a staple of libraries housing the tech-savvy and the old dog learning new tricks.  The more libraries I visit the more appreciative I become of the diverse array of tools it houses for one and all.  Be safe in the knowledge that libraries are adept at adaptation, evolving with the times rather than denying them.  That forward thinking offered my generation a chance to suss out computer’s before we all had them in our home or offer free wifi to any who want it.  A fitting quote comes from Mr Stephen Fry.  “Books are no more threatened by kindle than stairs by elevators”.  Libraries have housed that kind of adaption.

 

After two days spent rurally and without cell signal or a source of power I came into this library knowing I could connect, my devices, catch up on TV, download a book and boot my computer up and write something.  It was only in sitting here for a while that said writing became this article.  After I’d browsed the glorious panels of Watchmen, longing for my own copy back home and I’d admired the Lego trophy cabinet where the best creations are housed, ready to be shown off by their creators.  Then I knew I just had to confess my love for these places.  After being back on the road in my home/campervan I know that somewhere up the road another library will offer a haven to a weary traveller and another riveting conversation will be had with a kindly librarian always willing to help.  I just don’t know if when I arrive home to visit family and friends, I’ll be able to pop back into my local for a browse of books old and new, to offer travelling tales to the librarians and to feel homely and humbled that I can sit, read and mindfully wander.  That is a sad prospect indeed.  I need a book to talk me down.  Lucky I’m in the right place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Freedom; And Why You Aren’t As Free As You Could Be.

Freedom; and why you aren’t as free as you could be.  

 

Now right off the bat I want people to know I’m not trying to tackle slavery, delve into the persecution of native peoples by colonialists or stir up Mel Gibson’s movie career. I’m not qualified or knowledgeable enough to speak of those things and would do a disservice to any and all who have ever had their freedom stolen.  Nonetheless I want to talk about what freedom is to me.   About being free to do whatever you dream of.  And pursuing it passionately.  

I’m a book worm.  I’m actually going to start doing book reviews here on my blog as there’s no feeling like finishing a great book.  Sometimes you can feel you feel uplifted, joyous infact on other times the ending can leave you in tatters, destroyed and broken to the point where even Coldplay can’t fix you.  A book that has left me in the latter during my travels is A Diary Of A Young Girl.  One of the most important pieces of writing of the 20th century I believe.  For it was able to show all who read that we take freedom for granted.  Our day-to-day lives in which we skip about carelessly and in our perpetual quest for more material, it can be taken away.  By Nazism, by fascism, by war and by ignorance.  One of the most endearing parts of the book that has stuck with me like glue, is Anne’s desire to one day be a published writer, to be read and understood globally.  Obviously that happened but in such a way that brings about deep melancholy and heartbreak.  However, feisty, unbreakable Anne continued to write, continued to do what she loved and wrote because that was her passion.  The Nazi’s took away so much, sucked this (and millions more) young girl into a vacuum of despair and hopelessness and yet she hoped.  Anne was imprisoned in most ways but still free in a few.  That there is what I want to write about.

Before I left for travelling I felt unhappy, desperate and angry.  I hated what I was a part of, a suit for a company, a rat in amongst the race, a faceless man in a crowd of faceless people.  I knew I had to change it, to get away from the lack of culture, the materialistic society and corrupt government.  My soul needed more because like my body needs food for fuel, I believe the soul needs sustenance in equal measure (and back to reading) so to does the brain.  We as complex human beings need fulfilment in all ways.  Our brain needs to be stimulated and oiled by books and meaningful interaction.  Our bodies need to be worked fitfully and vigorously to let our muscles know that we may need them at any time.  Our spirit needs a patronus incase of lurking Dementors – or in other words it needs fulfilment, happiness, hope to battle the darkness that comes into our lives.  

When I was trapped back home (Swansea, Wales) and was still six months from setting off indefinitely, I started to become hateful.  I could see the vast majority of people stuck in the mud, caught up so tragically in their own lives that no other mattered.  Materialistic desires were at the forefront of many people’s minds.  I’m a twenty four year old man and I felt as if the majority of my generation of people were total wastes of space.  If they hadn’t done it or weren’t doing it then it was wrong or not worth a go.  Their shallow, meaningless lives had to account to something but seemingly they didn’t.  Obiously not all as I do have friends, but some people in Britain just enjoy pissing all over people’s parade because it doesn’t coincide with their beliefs.  People can’t be happy for one another, revels in other’s victories because they see that as their defeat, somehow.    I felt like Travis Bickle or Rorschach, someone who can see the true underbelly of society and the ugliness in people. As I said I was hateful and bordering depressed – but not wrong.   

 

Since travelling however I have met many people of my generation so to to speak, that share in my desire for wander on my nomadic quest and go their own way(GO YOUR OWNN WAYYYY).  Some have been fellow travellers, immediately we held a sparked conversation about where we’ve been, where we’re going and what has helped us grow in between.  Some have been denizens of the country, city, island I’ve been visiting and have been so interested in my journey or my life and where I’m from that I’m left feeling equal measures of hope and despair.  Hopeful that one day they can see more of the outward world, that my journey may inspire them even in the smallest degree, that our bond will be remembered.  But then I’m left somewhat in despair to think how selection of people in the western world, people I know, people I don’t know, people on social media, the media itself, politicians – the list goes on – would have immediately dismissed this chap or chapette based on the colour of their skin, their clothing, their lifestyle, their language, even their demeanour whether it laid back or emotionally wide open.  I frustrate myself in thinking why can’t people break the chains of prejudice and ignorance and try to learn and understand more of the outward world because at the end of the day we all look to the same stars.  

 

Six months into travelling I have taken a more laid back approach myself and accepted that seven billion people aren’t going to want or crave the same thing – although a scary amount want that walking ballbag of a human being Donald Trump to be president of the United States and in turn take away much of the freedom they proclaim to have for all.  I’m not going to get into that though as I think I’d test the limit of WordPress’ word count and toleration of profanity.  We all make our choices but I think some feel they have to live the rest of their lives by them.  More oft than not I see that ignorant people somehow seem to think ‘Change’ is a dirty word.  As if a person isn’t allowed to change in anyway morally, ethically, spiritually, mentally after the age of sixteen.  As if there is some degree of pretentiousness with wanting to change.  They feel as though they are in knowledge of a joke that anyone who they deem has ‘Changed’ is not fit to know the punchline.  Obviously the joke is on them because my frustration would often stem from knowing that people can live better lives. I feel as if I have stumbled upon a secret potion  that will invigorate and inspire but folk simply won’t listen.  To enact change however their has to be awareness of what currently is and what can be.  A self-awareness, questioning one’s position amongst the stars, on the planet, in the job one holds but hates etc.  Whilst people moan and whine about lifes little things I believe they are not aware that they are the ones, perhaps the only ones, with the power to change it.  If you have a job, have a car, have a home, have a smartphone, I’m going to take a guess that you have freedom.  Regardless of what you may think about the corrupt institutions that your country bathes in, you still have a massive degree of freedom to make a change for the better and more so for yourself.  

Not that everyone wants to explore all the world has to offer, travel indefinitely, carry their life in a rucksack, live in a campervan. Although I do believe that if people took themselves away from their normalities, regardless of how much they enjoy or dislike them, then horizons broaden, the mind grows, the soul speaks and their comfort zone is a little bigger.  If awareness can enact change then it would do some people good to pluck up a bit of courage and take a leap into the unknown because I guarantee it will set any on a path that is, at least slightly different from their old one.  Whilst on that new path, with a new perspective, it is easy to see what you may want to change, what you may want now to do or to try.

It seems en masse, people only think deeply about freedom when it is threatened.  That is counterproductive to what freedom is.  It is the ultimate state of human consciousness.  To only chase it when it’s threatened is futile if you didn’t use it in the first place.    

Now think of all those adverts that objectify men, women, children, that have you chasing something you already have or eyeing up something you know you don’t need but are justifying its purchase anyway.  Take that voice-over guy who speaks of The Best A Man Can Get or how Worth It you could be if you buy their product.  Now imagine he had integrity and morals and self worth.  

“Do you hate your job, feel pressured by idiotic societal norms or just long for something different?

Then you should try Freedom. Odds are that if you are watching this on your 50 inch LED TV you already have it laying around.  You just need to use it.

Search vigorously for that job you’ve always desired.

Take up the acting course at college that you felt wasn’t feasible  for ‘Real Life’.

Chop down all those idiots at the train station with a fire axe like Patrick Bateman from American Psycho*  

Take a trip to that city you’ve only seen on the magazines but long to visit.

What!? You don’t have time? Make some. Stop spending three hours a day on Facebook and watching the soaps and use your time efficiently. We all have the same amount of it.

Money you say!? Then stop spending it on takeaway food and binge drinking on the weekend and you’ll be uttering ‘When In Rome’ in ROME before you know it.  

 

Freedom. It’s yours. Use it.”

 

*The charming voice-over guy does not condone, promote or propose axe murdering of any kind.  He merely said it for dramatic effect.  Seriously. Put the axe down. You’re not Gimli.  

Yes I know my view on freedom is idealistic.  On packing up and leaving.  On making a great change. On doing something new.  It is all scary, it makes you question yourself and your choices on times.  I mean I was scared out of my wits before I left home.  Even though I knew it was what I wanted, at the time I left I was in tears and interrogating myself internally with Batman voice “WHY ARE YOU LEAVING!?”  On the other side however I sit here writing this on a bench in a magical national park, surrounded by  colourful birds and  green trees and pithy little flies that like my natural pheromones, listening to the ocean’s melody and I could not be more content with my choices in life that have led me to this moment.  That my friends is true happiness.  Being alone, in your darkest hours, and knowing you are doing right by yourself.  Your happiness is because of your actions, you are living just how you want to and no pressures or outside forces can change that.  *Gets washed away by freak tsunami*

So there it is.  Freedom is to go about as you want, please yourself (not like that), to remain unbowed in the face of societal expectation and what is the norm.  To be true to yourself, and learn from others.  To use your time wisely, smiling and laughing and learning.  There is a reason that in all the films featuring an oppressed people, the oppressed rise up against oppressors and that is because freedom is worth everything. It is the staple of a prosperous and healthy society.  Sometimes though you can just forget its meaning.

freedom n 1 being free. 2 exemption or immunity, e.g. freedom from hunger. 4 right or privilege to unlimited access e.g. the freedom of the city.  5. A great way to finish an article that relies upon Mel Gibson’s faux-scottish accent.

FRREEEEEEEDDDDOOOOMMMM!   

After writing this article I went for a hike as I’m in the spectacular Wilson’s Prom and I’d be foolish not to, even after the 20km adventure yesterday.  The scenery is as varied as a fruit bowl. Up on a sand dune I discovered this little guy. Living life, the way he wants to, in spite of his environment.

Travelling – A Modern Renaissance.

“Why are you going travelling?”

The question I was often met with upon announcing I was quitting my job and leaving everything I’ve ever known to venture into the deep unknown.  I’d often say that it was what I had to do.  A niggling feeling to escape the monotonous reality of day-to-day life turned into an itch that couldn’t be scratched when one feels societal expectations bearing down which then transformed into a nagging scream akin to a bellowing Sergeant urging his troops to flee a battle that can not be won.   Then I know I had to get the hell out of dodge.

Now over a month of being ‘on the road’ I think I can tackle the question better but I’ll reform it from an objective person’s view to my subjective conscious demanding to know.

“Why am I travelling the world right now?”

This could really be answered by capricious bulletpoints

• BECAUSE SOCIETY HATES ME!!!

If I am to develop as a writer though I don’t think that would bear fruitful for any involved.

I am travelling the world because I felt that my perspective back home (Wales, UK) was forcing me to become more cynical.  I met the abhorrent stupidity that flanked me every which way with spades of cynicism and satire.  Both perhaps needed in the world we live in where information or therein lack of need to be questioned.  I think spoonfuls over spades would be better though but I couldn’t lessen my grip on the spade whilst being faced continually with the mindlessness and ignorance of the general public( I worked in a train station and so saw thousands of people a day) and the overbearing subculture in Britain that has so many wanting to look, act, think(or not to think perhaps) and socialise the same.  In my eyes that is what this current government and corporate, money-fuelled world powers want from their robotic flesh puppets.

As I felt so helpless in being able to change not only people’s views (people would rather read a The Sun article telling them that an immigrant has arrived 5 minutes early to their job to steal it from them than a preachy blog) but change how the system works and acts and governs (Today is November 6th, and every year I pray to wake up to some Guy Fawkes related news where power has been relinquished from the pigs at the top – V For Vendetta and Animal Farm references there you lucky people).

I can feel my point slipping away from me now as my blood pumps faster in anger.  Which can sum up why I left.  In getting entangled in the politics and bureaucracy you are pledging yourself to a perpetual battle – sometimes it’s just better to slip out the back door and vanish.

So here I am 5 weeks into travelling and I am lapping up all the different cultures, beliefs and peoples ( and of course food) I can stumble upon.  I’ve tried to see places for their local customs as opposed to their tourist-catering epicentres.  I’ve visited local communities where school children (both Africa and Asia) wave at you for no other reason than they want to.  I’ve eaten on small plastic chairs and tables (like I’d have done with my niece back home) on a street in Phnom Penh and had a chopstick lesson from locals – I was really struggling and they were justified to laugh.  Hiring a moped and driving with no direction is always a good way to get lost  in South East Asia and, in turn, discover something or someone whom you’d never have had the chance beforehand.

We, as people and a community of humans like to relate to one another (as well as liking to discriminate against one another strangely).  This is the basics of being a geek.  You’re just walking down the street roaring like Chewbacca and a stranger says “laugh it up fuzzball” and that’s the both of you done for life.  A friendship based upon relatability.  It happens every day where people find camaraderie in someone who supports the same sports team or dislikes a particular food or celebrity (I’m looking at you generic, mass-produced pop stars ).  Sharing that “Me too!!!” moment is always glorious and often brings people together for the right reasons – it is a total shame a few people had the “me too” moment with racism and formed the KKK or the English Defense League.

After many conversations with different travellers the world over a common phrase is normally uttered by one or many of us.  “It’s nice to meet someone likeminded”.  Now where we may have vastly different views on who our favourite character is from the Mass Effect series or whether the totem tilted slightly at the end of Inception, it is nice that travellers can find solace in being able to have a real discussion with people who share a broader scale of the world and similar stances on a personal level.  Religion or anything as messy doesn’t usually come into it as meeting a devout christian family (Mum, Dad, young son, young daughter) travelling Cambodia for six weeks inspired me that there are some parents out there with their middle-fingers up toward The System.  I had always believed that people allow having children to act as Number One excuse for why they can’t chase their dreams.  It was so heartening to see these 8 and 10 year old (thereabouts) having the education of a life time in seeing a broadly different locale and culture than that of their suburban LA lifestyle and all thanks to their open-minded parents who haven’t let their own wanderlust fade.  And the friendship that came out of it barely ventured into religion or anything else so trivial.

So once we relate we can explore our interests and pursuits into what measures of self define us. Travelling has seemed to kick off royally in recent years.  Check twitter and instagram for a plethora of pages of journeys, travel tips, quotes of travellers , travel inspiration, guidance for the would-be travellers and so much more.  It seems whilst many just look at these pages and dozily remark ” I wish I could do this”, there are many that are actually doing it *pats self on back*.  There seems to be no age limit either which is even better.  Back home I was so sick of seeing middle-aged men and women waving the figurative white flag to life, admitting defeat and working solely to pay the bills.  I can conclusively say that isn’t how life is meant to be lived.  On the other end you may have some people who don’t worry about bills but wantonly throw cash about on ridiculously over-priced nights out or on brand new cars who are obviously trying to fill a hole that will never become whole just at the expenditure of money on material things.

Whilst travelling I am budgeting and saving as much as possible (I had a $1 lunch a few days ago and it was a filing and homely noodle soup) but that is so I can venture further onwards.  I’ve stayed in some pretty questionable places in Cambodia so far but that is all part of the adventure.  Leaving behind old comforts and pretenses allows you to build up resilience toward your endurance level on every scale whether it be accommodation or food (I ate a meal where the only thing I resolutely knew what I was eating were chicken feet, the rest of the meats were a total mystery).  I designed my own phrase before I left that I still stick by now more than a month in and that is “Nothing grows inside your comfort zone”.  Fellow travellers have totally agreed with me and we have long discussions about how leaving your comfort zone only expands it and I believe more with the generation I belong to (I’m 24) that we are all becoming a little fed up of the complacency that can be found back home in how easy life is and that we all long for something more.  Hence this prosperous renaissance of mind and soul searching for more to life.

Now allow me to get deep.  Scratch that allow me to get cavernous.  I have a theory that we, sentient human beings are put on the earth to garner as much information and knowledge as we can from the world we live in and to use that to connect to one another, passing on what is known and sharing in our learning of the new.

Now I’ll begin my climb out of the cavern.  We have intelligence over every other living thing on the planet.  We can perceive our own existence against the backdrop of a never-ending universe.  That is pretty incredible right?  Humans have continued onward and upward in knowing the unknown – there have been human beings living in the International Space Station for 15 years!  For 15 years there has continually been people living outside earth’s until-then boundless boundaries.  We can certainly use our intelligence for discovery all right.  We can also neglect intelligence and the quest for discovery to be distracted by some fame-whore porn star or a scripted talent-show where rich ignorami laugh at the poor and helpless.  So many people are happy being distracted.  That is fine though as it is their right to choose what to do with their lives.  It isn’t alright however to switch off entirely to anything that doesn’t immediately affect one’s life.

Uncle Ben Told Peter Parker “With great power comes great responsibility”  Ben sadly died.  Peter went on to become your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.  My point is this: our intelligence is power beyond measure but collectively using that power we need to be Spider-Man – helping those in need and having a regard for any and all around us whilst delivering witty one-liners.  We have caused a near countless amount of animals to go extinct.  We massacre each other because someone with power tells us to.  We believe one (normally oneself) life is more important than any other.  Perhaps all this stems from a lack of perspective.  If more people had seen an animal about to go extinct right in front of them they would have stopped it or at least tried to.  If people en masse had met the denizens from a country they were told to wage war upon beforehand and not allowed the puppet masters to depict ‘the enemy’ as sub-human with bigoted propaganda then maybe many would have put down their weapons and denied the mindless killing of innocence and concentrated on true enemies of freedom.  If a xenophobe can rid themselves of fear and make the small effort to understand why people flee a ravaged country then somewhere like Britain would have an open and tolerant populace willing to help children dying at sea.

Travelling allows one to see the world from a whole different perspective and stance.  Seeing poverty in a far off country can ignite the heart of even the most inactive person.  To experience a conversation of many different languages and to finally make out the punchline is truly a beautiful moment.  To see the world with your own eyes is what eyes were made for.  To see it through a phone screen is why so many people believe they know best from their jaded standpoint.  Britain is often very generous in giving aid to far off countries – every year Comic Relief top donations to countries in need – but I believe this isnt the right way to help.  We are great sympathisers but can rarely empathise with the strife we observe.  And some just do it for a pat on the back.  One of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done is be part of community projects in very poor neighbourhoods in South Africa as I knew deep down my physical work would be going toward people (children in fact) who would want and need it and result in the possibility of betterment in the community.  Getting to meet the children who’s school I was working on as part of a project with Shamwari Conservation Experience was delightful.  We played games in their dilapidated local park and had some great fun and shared smiles rather than speech because of the language barrier.  For me to recollect that is a delightful feeling even though it was under a month ago I know it will be a memory I cherish forever.  Something I never would of done had I stayed stuck in the mud.

I finish with a quote that can probably summarise my 2000 words in a couple of lines by the effervescent and impactful Maya Angelou.

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.