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 8 in the journey of Human: Apologies to the woman I was.

“I raise up my voice—not so I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard…we cannot succeed when half of us are held back.”

Malala Yousafzai

Another one bites the dust. A potential companion swept under the rug by their own hand and their own broom.

What do I do?

What do I say?

What do I radiate that makes me not fit?

Some may say I am not pretty enough. At least not under this makeup.

Some may say I am not thin enough. At least not under these clothes.

Some may say I am too intense. When I haven’t taken my meds

Some may say I am too strong-willed. When I speak unashamedly.

Perhaps I am simply too loud.

How long have I been numb to my own insecurities? How long have I been bowing down to the pressure of ‘not good enough?’

Too long. Too long.

I am here. I am breathing.

My body is unique. It has marks, and bumps, and bruises, but there is no ONE like mine. My gift.

My voice is strong. My laughter fills up the room and reminds those around me that I choose happiness. My gift.

My emotions bring me colour. I have looked in the mirror and asked myself if I feel too much. I feel just the right amount. The question becomes acceptance, becomes love. My gift.

From this day forth I don’t apologize for the gifts I have been given, not even to myself.

I simply pass my gifts to others.

 

Day 7 in the journey of Human: Glimmer of Change

I am sitting alone. Drenched in acoustic melody. Why am I feeling discontented?

“Don’t be tempted by the shiny apple. Don’t you eat of a bitter fruit. Hunger only for a taste of justice. Hunger only for a world of truth”

-Tracy Chapman

Where is the justice? What is the truth?

We scream until we cannot scream any longer! Looking around. One corner there is corruption, one corner there is thirst, and yet another, abuse. Stay positive they say. Face this ugliness with a giant fake smile plastered above one’s neck. Maybe we will forget. Maybe blissful ignorance will seep once again into our pores.

We cannot idly stand by. We cannot idly stand by and pretend. Close our eyes, sew them shut and broaden the plastic and intoxicated grin… Where are the drums to beat as we stomp? Where is the horn to blow as we march upon the field? Together. March with our hands held up high, declaring: “This is not good enough!”

I believe every single one of us hungers. This is a biological fact. Also metaphysically, allegorically. Truly hungers. Either we hunger for that bittersweet apple or we hunger for truth. We chow down with a great force on that shiny red skin only to be met with a deeper hunger. A deeper greed. There is no greed in truth. Truth constantly fills.

You have the power. The power to to show others their own. Hand in human hand.