Following threads

This September it’s eight years since I left my job in higher education. I could never have planned the journey I’ve been on since leaving. I just knew in my bones that I had to leave, to move somewhere else, to move in different ways. 

Maybe I had some idea that I might travel in a van someday. I have a vivid memory of sleeping overnight in a VW polo when I was kid, with my parents and brother. I remember standing in a gateway to a field, the sunrise creeping through the hedge, and the golden light pouring over the grass. As well as a strong visual image, it’s a felt memory. I felt content, fulfilled somehow, like nothing else mattered except that moment. Perhaps as an adult I’ve always been trying to get back to that feeling. Perhaps we all are. I think that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now, choosing to live in this way- stravaiging, wondering and wandering.

I could never have planned all the threads I would follow in the past few years. I’ve never had this idea of what I wanted to do or be in life, a 5-year plan. The threads have been, are, numerous and deep. Some are ancient- spinning on a drop spindle, developing a personal yoga practice, growing vegetables from seed and soil. I’ve realised that I’m quite musical, and I’ve learnt to play whistle and banjo. I never set out to do any of these things, but sometimes strange things present themselves to you, and you give it a try. I now have so many creative threads to follow that at times I lament not having more hands. I fantasise about being the Hindu goddess, Durga, with eight arms. I could knit, spin, play banjo and cook dinner all at the same time. Though that would probably end up being quite messy and confusing- imagine knitting spaghetti while boiling strands of yarn.

At times this journey has felt like an unschooling, a letting go of some of the unhelpful ways, the unhealthy habits. I’ve been choosing what I want to learn, and how I want to learn it, at my own pace, in my way. I’ve read a lot of books, thumbed through many field guides, done a few courses here and there. I’ve experienced life. I’ve found a community in nature, among the feathered and furred beings, the leafy ones, immersed in the salt tang of the sea, in the solitude of self. I’ve had deep relationships with the two-legged beings also, and wonderful and sometimes painful adventures. 

This journey has been led by something beyond the mind, deeper than rational thought and planning. I can’t say what this driving force is. Some might call it soul, or spirit, or following your heart. What it’s called doesn’t really matter, but I think what matters is that it feels right. Allowing my internal compass to guide me is about feeling more than thinking. 

And sometimes it’s all felt too much. I can be flattened by a sense of overwhelm, as though my searching has been frantic, rushed, incoherent. Like the threads I’m following are a tangled ball of wool, or more precisely many, many pieces of yarn from different balls of wool…argh! Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find the path, a clear direction and destination, a point on the map. 

I spoke to a friend about this occasional overwhelm and lack of direction, and she said without hesitation, with a strong conviction and as though it was the most normal thing in the world, “You’re a spider”. She didn’t need to explain it. It felt right. Yes, I’m spinning webs, there is no one path, no one thread; there are many and they are all relevant, all part of me and my journey. 

After that conversation it has felt easier to be me spinning my threads and weaving my web. It feels as though I’m creating something more flexible and resilient, multi-stranded and inherently connected. And as I keep realising in different ways it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. Keep spinning the threads, keep weaving the web. What threads are you spinning?

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