Community?

“The greatness of a Community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members”

Anonymous

While one is on the open road for extended periods of time its natural that we find our way into different spaces of rest. Campsites, Caravan Parks, Guesthouses, BnBs, backpackers.

I have spent the vast majority of my time on the road taking refuge along the way residing at the latter. Backpackers come with certain stereotypes attached to them : they’re relaxed, they’re affordable, and they’re full of “hippies”. Therefore a picture is painted of good times, guitar played around the bonfire: love, light, and community.

But how solid is the ground that these notions stand on? Allow me to share something I wrote along my path:

“A strange and disconcerting, yet somewhat predictable hedonism, a wild pleasure seeking – nestled amongst the serene and sacred woods

A juxtaposition that’s hard to ignore.

Seemingly a place of peace and love, but its the same people, same booze, same drugs, same destructive choices – all thrown together in a chaotic heap under the glaring lights of the bar.

People appearing to co-exist constantly under the guise of community and hippie ideals.

But dig a little deeper and see through the carefully placed veil.

What is there to find?

The same stressful complications, same torrid flings, dirty little secrets and rules broken.

The same self-denial and self-pity that goes hand in hand with the capitalist dystopian fever dream we call the average business environment.

Its hard to ignore, its undeniable, how hard we humans try to nurture our PRIMARY modus operandi: profit.”

Day 9: Hedonism

“You’ll live to be a hundred if you give up all the things that make you want to”

-Woody Allen

Where does the mind go when our brains are busy pursuing a hedonism so vile and sweet that the only escape is autopilot?

Does it venture back into the heart to protect it from its own transgressions? Does it look for solace in that pumping vesicle…

As we try and seek excitement with drowning and drifting, and lifting our hands in the air, swaying our hips to the tune of “what is good enough?”

We are obsessed with the sound of the chop, chop, chop. Breathe.

We wish we knew where we were needed when we are not needed here. When do we go when its apparent that we aren’t needed now? How do we go? How?