The Big Secret and How it Affects You

"How long will it last, this peace I have found... It is all of life that I contemplate - sun, clouds, time that passes and abides. Occasionally it is also that other world, foreign now, that I left centuries ago. The modern, artificial world where man has been turned into a money-making machine to satisfy false needs, false joys." - Bernard Moitessier, The Long Way.

The Strangles, North Cornwall

In about 2 weeks' time, we will be gone from here. We will have given up our boat (the one that was meant to be our home for the next 20-30 years or more), our business (already being sold off as I type), and Father Earthly will have reduced his working hours by almost half. We are breaking with pretty much everything, in fact, in an attempt to change our lives for the better.

Fancy a boat? Have a look :)

These last 2 years or so have been so tough, and we have forgotten how to laugh properly, how to find joy in the little things. That is what we need to regain at all costs.


When we embarked on our adventures in our lovely green camper 3 1/2 years ago, it was to seek a much simpler life, a more spontaneous way of living, and quite frankly to have more fun. And by god so we did! But then our little sproglets came along and complicated things. Suddenly, even our simple way of looking at things became fraught with stumbling blocks and much weariness. Father Earthly's work and my business got in the way of enjoying our family and creating a home. Stress and anxiety and immense fatigue prevailed: this was not the way it was meant to be at all. And so something had to be done, but what...?

Our new home!

And then very suddenly, just as everything seemed to have gone dark forever, a chink of light appeared. It beckoned and wavered and lured us in. Father Earthly wasn't so sure - why should he trust this light? What if it was a hinkypunk? What was the light offering exactly? Did it have all the answers?


Gently, curiously and not a little warily we started to follow the light, to seek and know the source - Father Earthly dragging his heels a little reluctantly whilst I skipped eagerly ahead, stopping periodically to urge him on. Occasionally our path came to forks and crossroads and diversions, but on investigating these other ways, our light dimmed or was lost altogether. Once or twice, we very nearly lost our way entirely as the dark closed in on us.


Stay with me here, folks.


Today, this very moment, the light is beaming out strongly and bathing us, bright and glowing like a crisp Autumnal day. It feels good and it feels right. There are still many unanswered questions, but the most important have been satisfied. After our long darkness, I feel like a convalescent, letting the warmth and goodness seep back into my very bones.

The way things were...

There are of course some regrets and just a little bitterness. As I type I am sitting on our narrowboat (newly cleaned and tidied), the woodburner chucking out it's cheerful cosiness, and I'm surrounded by all our things, by our space. This was to be our home, and now we have to say goodbye: for financial (and practical) reasons, we can't even keep it on as an occasional outlet for adventures and hideaways. All of the work we have started, all of the special materials or pieces (such as our lovely stove!) that we chose or had planned - all seemingly wasted. That is very disheartening.


But I'm a philosopher and there's no point wallowing in the quagmire of regret. As a friend of ours likes to say "it's better to regret the things you've done than those you haven't".


And that's where you come in, dearest, most wonderful reader! Do you feel as though life has a strangle hold on you and you can't break free? Has all the light gone from your life and your mere existence is dull and grey, or worse...? Are you filled with regrets? Or dreams, passions, caged birds just waiting to be set free?


You know what to do my friends.


And if you need me, you will find me here.


xxx