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Between responsibility and freedom

Wouldn't it be nice to just... go? To walk out the door on a nice sunny day and follow any path you fancy, as far as you like. No time constraints, no shopping list, nothing to hold you back. You're free. You're on your own.


You're not the only one to have this kind of dream. Alastair Humphreys' book The Doorstep Mile is written for people who want more adventure in their lives, but somehow never quite get around to making it happen. And the top two reasons why they don't are: "I don't have enough time!" and "I feel guilty/selfish/it's not fair on my family!"

So you might start thinking that what we all need is less responsibility in our lives. It's a tempting idea, that freedom. But as I considered my responsibilities, I realised that many of them arise out of connection to other people. I shop and cook and clean for my family, because I love them and want to care for them. I help to teach the kids at church because I am connected to them, and the rest of the church community. I work for pay, of course - money is useful in so many ways - but also because serving food and cake brings joy and generates a few more friendships, a little more connectedness.

"Loving bonds," says Merriman, a key figure in Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising fantasy sequence, "are outside the control even of the High Magic, for they are the strongest thing on all this earth." Loving bonds are what give us our sense of belonging, of security. But they also give us that sense of being tied down, trapped in our obligations to other people. Life with no connections would be lonely and aimless. But life with lots of connections can make us feel overwhelmingly hemmed in.

Alastair Humphreys understands the tension. In his younger years he went on "proper" adventures - walking across India, rowing the Atlantic, busking around Spain. Now his desire to get out and explore has to fit around "the happy chaos of raising a family" and he has become an advocate of "micro-adventures". Climb a tree. Sleep under the stars. Go for a night hike.

Or, indeed, walk the National Forest Way on your days off! It's not adventure that I crave, I've decided. If there's a word for it, it's probably space. Being outside in a spacious place (the fewer people, the better), and also having at least two or three hours to spend there. Not feeling like someone's watching the clock, waiting for my return.

 

I've enjoyed finding a little more freedom over the past couple of years, but reading The Doorstep Mile also reminded me to appreciate the connections and responsibilities that I have. These are some ways that I've found to help me manage the balance.

  • Embrace the seasons. When I was 24 and cycling everywhere, I would have been appalled to learn that at 34, I would have two young children and think that a 45-minute walk was a rare luxury. Now I'm almost 44, I have a few hours to myself again. But I couldn't have made that happen ten years ago. Sometimes you have more responsibilities than freedom; sometimes the other way around. Do what you can, but don't fight it too hard.

  • Create a theme. I followed the National Forest Way. Alastair Humphreys went to a new grid square on his local OS map every week (recorded in his book Local). I've come across people walking around Britain, visiting every train station on a particular network, photographing every Peak and Northern footpath sign. Whatever arbitrary hook lets you hang a structure on it, go for it! I've found having a theme gets me excited about the next step, and takes away the decision about where to go. It's much easier to keep going. You discover all kinds of random places. And you can celebrate when you reach the end!

  • Think large and small. It's great getting out on 8-10 mile hikes. But I can't do one of those every day. In between, I'm still walking around the village or finding 4-5 mile family walks closer to home. Try and have a rough idea of what works - a night away once a year, a day out once a month, half an hour of something every day. The little things, as well as the big ones, play an important part in feeling that sense of space.

  • Count your blessings. Back in 2014, my oldest son rated hanging up the washing as my greatest talent. (I blogged about it.) I've had a lot more practice since then; the washing basket continues to refill at an alarming rate. Unsurprisingly, I am still thankful to own a washing machine. There always will be responsibilities. As far as I can, I try and regard them as a blessing rather than drudgery. Which, as you will have noticed, doesn't stop me abandoning them for a walk whenever possible!

This didn't start life as a new year post, but it seems to have ended up that way. It's a time of year where I often find myself weighing up the balance between different aspects of my life. Have the responsibilities got heavier or lighter? Where do I find the space in between, and do I need more or less? If you are doing the same kind of calculations, I hope you find these thoughts helpful.

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