Should I get into all the gory details about biological and sanitary needs when you are on a pilgrimage? Maybe I should just mention that it is a good idea to bring toilet paper and a small shovel, for two distinct ways of meeting the need. Usually, where you'll need the shovel there will be enough moss and foliage that you won't need toilet paper, and where you'll need toilet paper there won't be a need for a shovel.
And you should bring soap. That part should be obvious.
Your digestion will not always wait for you to find the perfect spot. In some cases, you will wake up in the middle of the night and find yourself sleeping on a patch of grass behind a gas station, and find it necessary to put on your shoes and get your flashlight and find a patch of trees or bushes as makeshift sanitation.
I managed to fall asleep again after this incident, but not for long. I was irreversably awake long before the day was dawning. I decided to keep walking.
The first thing I noticed was that I had crushed a slug in my sleep. When you sleep outside in some places, you may notice that slugs crawl onto your shoes and sleeping bag and backpack during the night. I'm not sure what they're looking for that they can't find in the grass.
This one had come all the way to where it was right next to my head, and I must have turned around in my sleep right around then. Fortunately it got stuck between my hat and the sleeping bag, rather than getting crushed into my actual hair.
Still, it was gross. It had been one of those big brown slugs, a bit like the lower lip of a large African woman. And it was now a gooey paste on my hat and my sleeping bag.
I packed my things and started walking. I had walked at night before, and had walked through fog almost every day, but this was the first time I was walking through a foggy night. Here and there a dog barked, but otherwise the tapping sound of my walking stick and my heavy breathing were the only sounds I could hear. The street was not illuminated, and there were sometimes large stretches in which there was no house or any other source of light. I had to use my flashlight sometimes, or just walk through the misty darkness.
I took a break after half an hour to stretch. I had heard that it is better to stretch after warming up than to stretch cold before exercising.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
93: The underachiever, Part 4
Is a desire for success different from a fear of failure? No doubt it is, but I have a hard time seeing the difference. Or seeing how someone can tell whether he is driven by a desire for success or a fear of failure. I bet it feels exactly the same.
We tend to think of an achiever as being driven by 1. a desire for success and 2. high standards. Because if his standards are low, he is considered an underachiever even if he succeeds in reaching them.
But I wonder how many times this combination is exactly what makes an underachiever as well. The high standards mean that success will come with difficulty, or that there is a risk of failure. But the desire for success, if it is coupled with a fear of failure, may immobilize someone rather than drive him forward.
It is an interesting detail that I have noticed: when I speak to underachievers, it seems that they often have higher ambitions than the achievers and overachievers.
We tend to think of an achiever as being driven by 1. a desire for success and 2. high standards. Because if his standards are low, he is considered an underachiever even if he succeeds in reaching them.
But I wonder how many times this combination is exactly what makes an underachiever as well. The high standards mean that success will come with difficulty, or that there is a risk of failure. But the desire for success, if it is coupled with a fear of failure, may immobilize someone rather than drive him forward.
It is an interesting detail that I have noticed: when I speak to underachievers, it seems that they often have higher ambitions than the achievers and overachievers.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
92: vagabond as I know it
The rest of the day I walked. Much of the stretch was along a pipeline. I was listening to Johnny Cash on my mp3 player, which I did break out on occasion. I wondered whether I would make the next stop, Santillana del Mar, by night time. I stood on a bridge for a while, considering whether I could sleep under it. I decided against it and kept walking. I abandoned the trail again and went along a carretera. Another 5 Kilometers to Santillana, and it was getting dark.
I found a small gas station and decided to sleep behind it. I brushed my teeth, then went out back and spread out my sleeping bag. This kind of sacking out was more familiar to me than the regular pilgrim hangouts.
A dog was barking at me. I remembered other times when I slept outside -- in Canada or Argentina or other such trips -- and how some dogs would literally bark all night because they knew I was nearby. I always wanted to make a deal with them, that I would not move for the rest of the night if they would agree to be quiet for the rest of the night. They didn't seem to care, even if I just lay motionless all night long, the fact that I was there meant they had a right to bark, and if they had a right to bark, well darned if they aren't going make ample use of that right.
This dog eventually went away. But now a lady in a neighboring house was calling from her balcony. I was comfortably settled in my sleeping bag, had taken off my glasses and was plugging up my ears. I couldn't tell for sure if she was calling to me, so I just ignored her. I became increasingly certain that she was, in fact, trying to get my attention. Some bum going to sleep just outside her backyard.
It wasn't even fully dark yet, but I drifted off to sleep.
I found a small gas station and decided to sleep behind it. I brushed my teeth, then went out back and spread out my sleeping bag. This kind of sacking out was more familiar to me than the regular pilgrim hangouts.
A dog was barking at me. I remembered other times when I slept outside -- in Canada or Argentina or other such trips -- and how some dogs would literally bark all night because they knew I was nearby. I always wanted to make a deal with them, that I would not move for the rest of the night if they would agree to be quiet for the rest of the night. They didn't seem to care, even if I just lay motionless all night long, the fact that I was there meant they had a right to bark, and if they had a right to bark, well darned if they aren't going make ample use of that right.
This dog eventually went away. But now a lady in a neighboring house was calling from her balcony. I was comfortably settled in my sleeping bag, had taken off my glasses and was plugging up my ears. I couldn't tell for sure if she was calling to me, so I just ignored her. I became increasingly certain that she was, in fact, trying to get my attention. Some bum going to sleep just outside her backyard.
It wasn't even fully dark yet, but I drifted off to sleep.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
91: The Indifference of the Universe
When I look at what people do in life and ask myself why we do them, there seem to be two ansers:
1. the fear of boredom, and
2. the indifference of the universe.
Why do I say things when I'm in conversation with other people? Because I have a viewpoint, and by voicing it I can distract myself for a moment from the intolerable lack of a difference that it makes, cosmically speaking.
Why do I write songs? Same reason.
Why am I writing this? Same reason.
Or maybe not. Maybe I just write because I'm bored. Humans aren't designed to do nothing. They'll do something -- anything -- to pass the time.
But the fear of boredom doesn't explain why we do things that we think have meaning. We do things that we think have meaning because we cannot bear to exist unperceived, to be ghosts, so to speak, who are not acknowledged by anyone and who are unable to manipulate, in any way whatsoever, their surroundings.
I seem to lack the gene which drives people to procreate. I'm told that many people want to have children because they take comfort in the idea that their name or their genetic material will live on after they are gone. I'm told that this is a major driving force in evolution. In that case I must be the evolutionary link that has realized that there's already too many people on the planet, and that has dispensed with the idea of it being in any way significant to have one's name and genetic material keep existing.
But why do children keep saying, "look, mom"? Why do people get married? Is it not in order to have a witness, so to speak? Zaphod Beeblebrox asks, "how do yo know you're having fun when no one's watching you have it?" This is actually quite funny, but it's also true. If I say that I love music, then why am I not content to just play my guitar or my piano in the privacy of my home? Why do I consider it necessary to be performing music in front of others? Why do I go to such lenghts to keep in touch with my friends? Is it all not because I need someone or something to give me the feeling that my existence is not going by completely unperceived, unrecognized, unappreciated?
What have I ever done that wasn't an attempt to get away from boredom and anonymity?
1. the fear of boredom, and
2. the indifference of the universe.
Why do I say things when I'm in conversation with other people? Because I have a viewpoint, and by voicing it I can distract myself for a moment from the intolerable lack of a difference that it makes, cosmically speaking.
Why do I write songs? Same reason.
Why am I writing this? Same reason.
Or maybe not. Maybe I just write because I'm bored. Humans aren't designed to do nothing. They'll do something -- anything -- to pass the time.
But the fear of boredom doesn't explain why we do things that we think have meaning. We do things that we think have meaning because we cannot bear to exist unperceived, to be ghosts, so to speak, who are not acknowledged by anyone and who are unable to manipulate, in any way whatsoever, their surroundings.
I seem to lack the gene which drives people to procreate. I'm told that many people want to have children because they take comfort in the idea that their name or their genetic material will live on after they are gone. I'm told that this is a major driving force in evolution. In that case I must be the evolutionary link that has realized that there's already too many people on the planet, and that has dispensed with the idea of it being in any way significant to have one's name and genetic material keep existing.
But why do children keep saying, "look, mom"? Why do people get married? Is it not in order to have a witness, so to speak? Zaphod Beeblebrox asks, "how do yo know you're having fun when no one's watching you have it?" This is actually quite funny, but it's also true. If I say that I love music, then why am I not content to just play my guitar or my piano in the privacy of my home? Why do I consider it necessary to be performing music in front of others? Why do I go to such lenghts to keep in touch with my friends? Is it all not because I need someone or something to give me the feeling that my existence is not going by completely unperceived, unrecognized, unappreciated?
What have I ever done that wasn't an attempt to get away from boredom and anonymity?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)