High-Gloss Voluntary Simplicity

There's something contradictory and cool about Tinymine, a blog I discovered a week or so ago. It's voluntary simplicity, from a glossy perspective. And I'm surprised to find I love it.

I've always come at Voluntary Simplicity with a very minimalist, make-do-and-mend approach: less is more, focus on 'enough,' possessions weigh you down and curtail your freedom in every way - physically and pragmatically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

I've usually lived in flat-shares where my space has been my room and no more - that puts a nice limit on how much stuff you can accumulate. I've avoided shopping, and trawls through furniture showrooms are my idea of purgatory. In contrast, I've enjoyed scavenging for cast-offs, and at one point lived in a flat almost fully equipped with furniture lifted off the streets of Glasgow on council pick-up days before the vans came round. I've also moved frequently, and valued the regular opportunity to ditch surplus and walk away. And I absolutely loved backpacking for extended periods of time, which by necessity reduced my essential possessions down to the volume and weight capacity of one rucksack.

But there's been an irritating conflict in my mind lately, as my life has led me to put down some roots. Making a home requires possessions, tools, equipment and storage. Which means more stuff, and more bloody shopping: for a bed, for a fridge, for a garden spade! No, please don't make me do it.

Tinymine gets voluntary simplicity, gets the concept of 'enough,' and the maximising of what you've got, not what more you could endlessly 'need.' And yet also accepts that we do need things, embraces and enjoys the fun of it, and revels in the aesthetics of it.

Whether you're a hard-line minimalist nomad suddenly faced with having to set up home, or a previous big spender suddenly faced with having to go small and simple, Tinymine might be worth a look.

5 Good Things About Cycling (For People Who've Forgotten)

My busy life is getting out of hand! New job, new home, brother's wedding... there just aren't enough hours in the day to find time to blog as well.

So, my (brief) message for today is... cycling rocks. Not news to many, but a fabulous reminder for me. My running is still on the back-burner, but the biking is going great. I used to bike a lot. Before I got my drivers license (which wasn't till I was about 26 or something), I biked one hell of a lot - it was my only means of transport, and I lived in some pretty rural areas, so I regularly covered a lot of miles out of necessity, never mind all the cycle touring I did for fun. I used to dream of being Josie Dew, I read her books, and wished I could go off and cycle round wonderful foreign countries as my main occupation. But then I had to pass my drivers test and get a car for work, and then I moved to the city, and just didn't enjoy, or feel safe, or feel confident enough to cycle in the traffic-crammed streets.

Now I'm back up north in nowhere-land, the bike has been hauled out the shed, and I'm rediscovering the joys of cycling. Here are a few motivational reminders for the newly re-inititiating (not for the experienced experts who'd never be so slack as to stop cycling, you guys probably take all this stuff for granted and scoff at such newby-ism).

1. The achey sore backside you get when you haven't been out on the bike in a while. Ouch. (It doesn't stay that sore forever, honest).
2. Peddling downhill like a maniac, in the highest gear that'll gain purchase, till you go so fast you could almost be flying... zooooommmmmmmmm.....
3. That pounding-in-the-chest feeling you get when you finally get to the top of a hill. Have to stop, gasping for air. Rest a moment, soak in the views. And then become aware of the powerful sensation of your heart pumping strong and sure. Oh yeah, I'm alive!
4. Thighs getting noticeably more firm and muscular even after just a handful of sessions out on the road. Excellent.
5. Swallowing flies. Yuk.

Image by moriza

4 Secrets of A Surveillance Society: The Power of Inconvenience

I'm quite enjoying this low-profile, under-the-radar-living thread. I started to think about the ways that low-profile lives are monitored and restricted. Here's a few:

1. Packing-plastic.
You need to have a credit card, even when you don't need one. When travelling in the UK/Australia anyway, almost any accomodation requires a credit card. Even when you turn up on the spot, in person, at the front desk of a hotel, guesthouse or hostel, with your bag on the floor beside you, and you're looking to book just one night, tonight, and you have a fistful of crispy notes ready to hand over to pay for the night, and they do not have a problem accepting cash... A credit card number is still required, 'for security.' What are you going to do with it, I asked. Nothing, they said, we just need it on our computer system 'for security.'

A few years back my brother had the experience of having his application for a credit card turned down, not because he had a bad credit history, but because he had no credit history. He'd never had a credit card, or any other form of debt, and so there were no records on him for them to check. Rather than think round this, look at his current-account record, or anything else, the bank denied the credit card. You need credit to get credit.

2. Registered Address/PO Boxes
They need to know where to find you. Over at Hobopoet, his latest post (here) talks about car-living and advises getting a PO Box as a way of getting round the mailing problem that comes with having no fixed abode. The USA must be different from the UK, because, as I am currently finding out, I can only have a PO Box if I can provide evidence of my current place of residence in the form of recent utility bills in my name. As I am, once again, in transit, I have no address, so no such utility bills and so no PO Box. Proof of address, in the form of utility bills, is a standard request if you want to register or gain access to just about anything in officialdom - bank accounts, security checks, rental accomodation, utilities...

3. Photo ID
Seeing you for real isn't enough. They need to see you stamped in plastic, and overwritten with biometrics. That night's accomodation at the cheapo youth-hostel that required a credit card? Also needed photo ID. Bank account? Yup, photo ID, 2 forms of thank you very much. Drink in a bar, even though you're well beyond your 18th/21st birthday? Photo ID. Of course, security checks require photo ID. What's the big deal? All you need is your drivers license and/or your passport, you've probably got at least one of them on you at all times?

But whether you're trying to live a low-profile life, a low-carbon life, or are in the unfortunate position of having to live a low-income life, a passport/drivers license may be two things you just don't possess. Not owning these two items doesn't just exclude you from travel overseas or driving, it also excludes you from fully participating in day-to-day life in your home country.

What about standard-issue ID cards? The UK doesn't have these yet, though I know many other countries do. I object, on principal, to the idea. But can principals stand up to practicalities?

4. Inconvenience
The upshot of all this stuff is clever, creeping change. If the government suggests a tightening of security and surveillance, with compulsory trace-able histories and ID cards, it usually sparks a massive controversy in the media around civil liberties and freedoms, that clogs up the progression of the policy. But, inconvenience, now that's something different. That can move people to accept things that may have been unthinkable when framed in political terms.

In this hard, fast, now society where any delay drives us to the point of rage... The threat of inconvenience has the power to make us accept things that even the threat of terrorism doesn't. The inconvenience of not having all the necessary bits of paper, laminated cards with unflattering photos, the credit history, the strings of numbers, and the barcodes - its not worth it. Getting snarled up in a no-mans-land of 'computer says no' bureaucracy when all you're trying to do is move house, change jobs, receive mail or go on holiday - it'd drive you nuts.

Realistically, faced with that lot, I'd probably accept the ID card without even realising I'd just gone and compromised a step too far.

Would you?

Photo by nolifebeforecoffee

How To Live Under-the-Radar

Over at Code Name Insight, there have been a couple of interesting posts recently (see links here and here) about how to live a 'low profile' life, below the government's or other authorities' radars. But it got me thinking about the situation that probably faces more people - transitioning in and out of 'the system,' and the benefits and difficulties that brings.

This isn't as radical as it sounds. This is for anyone who's gone off backpacking on a shoe-string, strung together some low paid/cash in hand type jobs, helped out friends or friends-of-friends with house-sitting or other odd jobs in return for board and lodgings, or even just had a partner who's taken the reins and had everything in their name...

Before setting off on my travels back in 2007, I had to spend a fair while disentangling myself from many of the systems that kept me in my place. Shutting down contracts for phones and internet, cancelling direct debits for services I no longer needed or wanted, writing letters to inform the tax authorities that I was leaving the country so they could strike me off their list for the year... It was a complicated effort, they don't like to make it easy for you, but with each contract cancelled I felt a notch lighter and freer. This is well worth it, I thought to myself.

On my return, I was faced with re-instating many of those ties. But I was more wary, not out of any political motivation, but simply because its all such a hassle. It made more sense to avoid contracts and debts and accounts with all these different services and agencies. Pay as I go, cash, upfront, as and when I need something.

It is easier. Except when you want or need something from that system.

Code Name Insight wisely states that if you want to live a low profile life, then don't work in the military or any other sector that requires a security check. He's not wrong. I work in Health and Social Care, and in the UK every time you get a new job in that sector, you need a new criminal records check to be carried out - its called an Enhanced Disclosure (what a lovely turn of phrase, all woolly and fluffy). Its a very important procedure, we don't want criminals and abusers working with the most vulnerable people in our communities. But it does not cope well with people who haven't been 100% traceable all their days.

Sat in an office with an official, we tried to fill in the form together. I had to give all the addresses I'd resided at in the past 10 years. Unsurprisingly given my life over the past 10 years, there were not enough boxes on the form. And then there were the stints when I'd been of no fixed abode; away off backpacking, crashing on friends' or family's sofas, catalogues of hostels and campsites and benches in trainstations or airports, sleeping in cars, working for short periods of time for board and lodgings in a not entirely official capacity... always moving on.

Getting out of the system isn't easy, but getting back in again can be exceptionally difficult.

Will there come a day when it goes beyond inconvenient to come back into the system? Governments are increasingly regulating and controlling life. Will a system be devised to effectively monitor under-the-radar lives? Or will it be easier for them to simply exclude anyone without a seamless, official, trace-able history?

Have you found yourself living under-the-radar? Was it an intentional move, or just the way things worked out? And how has it been, getting back in?

Interested in Under The Radar living? You might also be interested in:

4 Secrets of A Surveillance Society: The Power of Inconvenience

Picture by ToastyKen

5 Amazing Places to Run in Australia

Right, let's just imagine for a moment, that you're taking some time out. Getting away from it all. You want to run, and you want it to be amazing. Here's 5 random places in Australia that, if strung together, make for a tremendous trip.

(Most of these routes are mostly off road, so no traffic, and nicer on the knees. None of these trails require driving to get to the start, they begin as soon as you step out the door of your accomodation. So backpackers and public transporters can run them, just as much as people with the wherewithall to hire a car).

1. Sydney's North Shore.
Start with running under the Harbour Bridge and take in views of the Opera House. Keep going, round Cremorne Point and Mosman - watch the ferries, climb over a hill all banked up with posh houses. Keep going, out to Taronga Zoo - pretend you're skirting Jurassic Park with its high electric fences, the scary animal sounds, and the significant reptile presence. Keep going, and going, and going... all the way to Balmoral Beach, or The Spit, or even out to Manly if you're hardcore enough. Running in a city does not get better than this.

2. Hobart's The Domain - Tasmania
Loops with stunning views over the city. Botanic gardens at the base. A great spot to get started in Tasmania from.

3. Bicheno - East Coast Tasmania
Stay at the funky backpackers hostel at Bicheno. Do hill training up and down Whalers Lookout, then swing round the rocky shore leaping from rock to rock. A nice trail follows the shore to the beach (fantastic blackberries to re-fuel on if you're there in season), then hit the beach and go for it. Magnificent. Don't run those rocks in the dark, you'll die. But do hang out and listen to the fairy penguins... they sound like alien monsters coming to get you.

4. Freycinet Peninsula Loop - Tasmania
I've mentioned this one before here. Stay in Coles Bay, unless you're rich and can afford the swanky accomodation at the base of the park. Bit of road running/beach running/campsite track running to begin with, then... you reach Freycinet National Park, a runner's dream. There's a well-maintained track that swings out the peninsula to Hazards Beach, then you can turn inland to cross the isthmus and suddenly you emerge onto Wineglass Bay - supposedly and believably 'one of the worlds best ten beaches'. From there it's a hard climb up to the lookout, and then a hard and fast descent back to the road you came in on. Not for the fledgling runner, probably a cool 13 miles or so...? But well worth training up for.

5. Strathan to Ocean Beach - Tasmania
Stay in the town of Strathan, and head out on the sealed road towards Ocean Beach. You don't cover many miles before the road becomes unsealed. Amazing views back over your shoulder to the mountains beyond. As you keep running, probably in total isolation, a roar builds and builds - this is Ocean Beach, its big, and its loud. And when you reach it, it'll take your breath away - assuming you've any breath left. Truely magnificent. If you got to West Tasmania without a car, then chances are the only way you'll reach this beach, is to run there. Well worth it. Just you and the kangaroos.

Oh wow, just writing that lot has made me nostalgic. Take me back... Then again, take yourself there, and let me know how you got on. Heavenly running or your money back.

Picture by Linh_rOm

Plan B

The ankle has gone again. Goddamit, I was just building up to half-decent mileage again, getting excited about the spring and summer ahead, trail-running in the hills day after day... When boom! Something in my ankle goes and tears and screams and stops me in my tracks. This was originally meant to be a blog about running! Who'd have known it?

Anyway, am meeting up with a physiotherapist friend tomorrow, and will prevail on her for a consult at a reasonable price. In the meantime, the bike has come out of hibernation. Took off this morning, for a test-run 5 miler through mist and smirr. Hey, this is pretty good. No longer in the city, I can make the most of empty roads that don't lead anywhere in particular. I belt down hills at a fair old lick. Around me, there's no sound but the whirr of my wheels, and the cry of birds in the fields and moors - curlews, lapwings, snipe, geese...

The world is peaceful, alive, and magnificent.

Image by ex_magician

Tactical Genius

Trouble with taking action, is... I've been doing too many other things to be able to sit down and blog. Sorry for the full week without a peep. Here's a wee something, harking back to previous diatribes and musings about motivational speakers...

Browsing the books and blogs of motivational speakers like Robert Holden (see here), I'm struck by how many high-profile conferences and courses and development days he's spoken and coached at. Not all, but most, seem to have been at senior manager or chief exec level. If all these senior managers of all these big organisations are attending these sessions, all about 'love', flexibility, communication and change in the workplace... How come the lower ranks rarely see any change? Or only changes that work them harder, control them more, and increase stress?

Is it just a junket? A 'jolly' for all those at the top of the tree? All the inspiring talk of change, values and success is fun and heady at the time, but implementing it turns out to be too much effort.

Or, is it an indication that things are gradually changing? That interest in these notions is growing? That a tipping point will soon be reached? I'd like to think it's this second option...

But is it? What about when Holden and his ilk get to speak for the lower ranks? The occasion this happened at my work (see previous post here), it created a real feel-good and revolutionary buzz for a day or two, before a 'healthy' dose of cynicism kicked in. We critiqued the speaker's message all to shreds, and went back to the same old. Did management authorise, invite, and pay for both the motivational speaker and all our man-hours because they really wanted change to take place and spread from the bottom of the organisation up? Or was it a good-will gesture of tactical genius? A way of giving us what we want, no, more than what we'd wanted, and then having us crush it all by ourselves?

There would have been the risk that a tiny minority of staff might've been inspired to do something radical and wonderful, or quit (which may amount to the same thing)... But it would arguably be a risk worth taking for those who prefer the status quo. The potential loss of one or two skilled staff who're already wavering, must be more than outweighed by the double-bluff of offering the majority a dream that they reject for themselves.

Image by Martin Kingsley