An Achill Moment?

Seems fascinating that I never weighed in here with any timely thoughts about the February 2012 trip to Achill that set the end of the Irish PhD into motion.  Now that we may have seen another such occurrence, it only makes sense to document that one here for posterity.

The end of another month, and the mad scramble to get time in on 100384 before the billing.  At the end of a week in which so much time was spent trying simply to rouse some motivation to arise.  Why, after a fairly inspiring weekend conference at that?  Mainly the ever-present thoughts striking anew - the file attraction/management you have mostly (and rather skillfully) avoided to date, the jargon and corporate speak, the monetary focus.  Think like an owner - how, when I don't want that measure of commitment long-term?  And these other words: accountable, collaboration, engagement, mentorship, continuous improvement, sustainable, leverage, innovate, efficiency, add value, client focus.  These words seem so practical.  So stale.  So inelegant.

The hope is that the MFA program offers a path to other and more soulful words.  As always, it comes down to the trade-off - less money, more time.  A trade I find myself increasingly willing to make.  The salary exchanged for the escape from all responsibility, the boxing up of the office for the last time, the long walk away from work that is not your own, now that you have provided the means to make it comfortably, at least for awhile.  A plan in line with the original 3-5 year window you had in mind when you had it changed following the first (and still only) trek to McNab light.

The timing convinces.  Antarctica is fixed.  Mark it with a conversation, with an eye to notice in late May upon the return, winding things down before the start at King's. 

The start at King's.  I like it.  If Trump and US politics is the focus, then the fall of 2018 are the first pages in the story and provide the easy opening for travel pre-Christmas.  Rent or sell the condo starting that September.  Winter-Spring 2019 is the 40th, an excuse enough to be free to enjoy that to its fullest extent, before the return for yet another sailing season.  By the time 2020 and graduation rolls around you will have time to consider the next phase of the career.  Think it through further, but it works.  I know it, I.

I just wonder, looking back, how much of this will be made true...  

  

Exit Strategies

The funk of April depressions that will not go away, even the impending launch of the old lady SC is not enough to inspire amidst the drizzle.  Nor Ivanhoe, nor the excitement of a Wembley return.  The laundry goes unfinished, the floors uncleaned, work avoided, and the fast food wrappings lie discarded around the bedroom.

What is to be done?  Antarctica beckons, but so far off into the future it is as yet unreal.  The idea of a literary writing escape in 2019 looms as well, yet feels even further distant.  There is an inertia of nothingness enveloping all thoughts - a lack of desire to exercise that would provide energy and lead to positive thinking and help escape this rut.

For that's what it is - a living in the past and an awaiting of the future that is so very frustrating.  I need to begin the writing, rather than wasting days staring at computer screens refreshing Twitter and scrolling through the meaningless stories and ads of other people.  Need to find a new calling, new experiences and insights, new freedoms, the return to the Kerouac-ian ideal of being adrift and not doing other people's work.

How?  Today is April 26th.  Let's try and avoid any further drinks -  other than Rivers, which is permitted (neat) for the launch day alone - until Scotland.  Let's try and restore the beginnings of the evergreen manifesto: the 7 min, the stairs, the groceries.

No booze until Islay, then the touring of the 7 most favoured distilleries on foot - Lagavulin, Laphroiag, Ardbeg, Bowmore, Bruichladdich, Bunnahabbainh, and Oban.  In preparation for the 3 peaks, a doable challenge that requires focus starting now.  Ben Nevis almost 18 years on, where you "probably" would not walk again.   And some touring of the Welsh bucket list places, and the Globe, and topped off with Wembley.

Who is there to tell you not to do it?  Answer: no one.  I need it, and the chance may not come again. Certainly not before 2019 given the plans.

So, no equivocating.  Let it be done.  And ponder the ultimate exit strategies for the road from the best natural sites the UK isles have to offer.

Pending

First day back in the office following the Rex.  A lovely little week escape to the Caribbean, timed perfectly post-Paddy's and with fine company.  Lovely time spent reading pool side, lovely food and pina coladas, lovely views out over the sea, and an ideal venue to simply relax.  First truly all-inclusive, and the appeal of that option is obvious, although to be fair one week is not quite enough to fully absorb it all and truly get into the island time nature of things.

Home to find an offer in on 120 JS - sad in the sense that it may have been an inspiring path, but the price point was always just that bit too high for the current, fluent situation.  I wonder, if that Friday storm had not come, whether the viewing would have made you feel differently.  I do still have my eye on the Eastern region, and hope to do the kayaking voyage this summer to test those waters more closely. 

The joy of the new country was palpable this time though, and with it the sense that becoming "house poor" is the wrong choice, no matter the quality of the Bach on offer.  It points back in the direction of a more frugal choice that offers a seasonal accommodation for when the condo is rented or sold.  All it takes is for the right choice to emerge.  Cow ledge is intriguing, and I could even see the Whalebone as a long-term option, but for now we must wait until after Antarctica I think.  Land near Arichat, or on time-honoured Tancook, may still be in the cards, but all dependent on the right opportunity coming along.

Otherwise, the Spring has sprung.  Less than a month before 6 months of Southern Cross enjoyment, with dreams of a return to Wembley for the FA Cup Final in the air.  First, Easter then the O'Cannabiz conference and some afternoon baseball.  Let us go then, you and I...