Fear and Hope
I wake up every morning feeling like a gorilla has taken a mallet to my back. Unfortunately, it’s a bed I’ve made for myself, and that’s literal and metaphorical. My camper has beds and desks that I made: the desk is working out fine, the mattresses seem to be made of some kind of material the core of planets are made of.
I’ve mentioned in my other blog that life and the microcosm of travelling are similar in many ways: everyone is on a journey of their own making, paths cross, you navigate through the problems to the best of your ability, and you make of every situation the best you can. Despite being twee, it’s probably true. The guiding principles behind it though are, I think, as simple as fear and hope. It’s striking the balance between the two that matters, and the overriding one will dictate the way you see any situation, how your day will turn out, and how your life will eventually unfold.
I am full of optimism and hope at present. Sometimes I let the fear get the better of me, and I’m full of self-doubt, and I don’t so much as solider on but putter with utmost caution. Yet I’m never one to dress up my doubt: I never sit there and lie about whether I thought I was on the brink of disaster or not. I don’t learn anything from that. Overall, I think it’s about trusting yourself, about backing your instincts. And if you cock up, hopefully someone is around to catch you. As with a Russian couple travelling to Brazil on their Honda 125, struggling in the wind and with a broken chain, it only took a passer by to offer some help and a spanner and they were on their way again. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. Life is good like that.
It’s time I headed out into the tourist wilderness again in Tierra del Fuego, where tonight I shall find another camp spot and hope I get another good night’s rest on my slab. I fear I may have made my bed too hard, I hope my back gets used to it.
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