Does The World Conspire Against You?

There's no shortage of inspirational quotes, telling us to follow our bliss, commit ourselves to impossible targets, dream big and dare to fail.

There's also no lack of useful and informative books and websites telling us how to make our dreams come true, how to identify our goals, how to draw up our step-by-step road maps to success.

But without an awareness of how the status quo conspires against you, you have to be damn lucky just to get past Go. 

That's what I'm interested in: unpicking the cultural and psychological forces that inhibit, sabotage and crush all those giddy dreams for a better life.

Once unpicked, it's so much easier to push forward.

Image by cameronparkins

A Badly Dressed Woman

I've been getting fashion-envy a lot lately.  As I go about my daily business, I catch myself eyeing up other people's threads. But its not the usual stunners who're attracting my attention, and there are good reasons for that.

A Badly Dressed Woman
The other day, I gazed with admiration at a really badly dressed woman.  She broke all 'the rules' of good dress sense, and seemed to have a total disregard for the effect of her overall ensemble.  She was neither stylish, nor quirky.  This was not an intentional statement of non-conformity and individualism, packaged in some self-consciously retro combination of vintage, high street and designer.  No.  I think (though I didn't ask her) that this was a true and genuine case of just not caring.  How liberating!

So what was she wearing?  She wore blue jogging bottoms with a lilac polyester blouse and cheap granny pumps.  Her hair was straggly, thin, and all over the place.  There wasn't the slightest smudge of make-up.  If she were a client of a learning disability or mental health service, her appearance would probably be prompting all sorts of earnestly judgemental case discussions.

But this was no poor soul in need of social work intervention.  This was a lecturer in neuroscience, standing before me to lead a tutorial that was mindblowingly good.

I contemplated her appearance, and her lecture, and thought... 'wow.'

I'm As Bad As Anyone
Ok, so I'd noticed her for her pigs ear of an outfit, and evidently made a negative assessment of it, so I'm as bad as any other shallow individual for whom clothes form the basis of how people are judged.  But on reflection, she personified for me a principal frequently paid lip-service to, but rarely lived.

We all tell each other that 'appearances aren't everything' to make ourselves feel better for not being supermodels.  But most of us still strive to look the best we can, and we spend not inconsiderable sums of money to help us. 

I've as much neuroses as the next person about how I look, but lately I've been noticing the people who don't bother themselves overly much with their appearances, and thinking there's something to aspire to there.

Freedom From The Fashion-Police
Think about where this compulsion to have to look better comes from.  There's something inbuilt into human nature no doubt, psychologists would be able to tell me all about all the evolutionary and contemporary advantages of looking good.  I'm not daft nor blind, I'm aware of all that.  But I also think that we live in a culture that pushes messages at us day in day out to make us feel insecure enough to buy our way to beauty so that we can be sexier/more successful/happier/etc.  Not because it'll work, but because it feeds the economy, feeds businesses, feeds wealth (other people's), and feeds the cycle that makes as many people as possible feel the same way.

What About You?
Can you honestly say you're not affected by all that?  Have you already mastered this little life-hack to more freedom and less anxiety in life?  If so, how'd you do it?! 

There's a freedom in rejecting the priorities of appearance and physical conformity.  I'm all about freedom.

So, perhaps, it's time to test my courage, time to start dressing primarily for function, and not caring too much how it looks.  Not to go wilfully ugly just to be contrary, that's of no use to anyone!  But to just focus on 'enough' rather than more, more, more.

How much difference will it make to my life?  Now, there's an experiment for a rainy day...

Image by fictures

What Do I Do Here?

Sunday morning, the clocks went back an hour last night, and most of the UK is relishing 'an extra hour in bed.'  An extra hour in bed doesn't excite me too much, I like being up and about when the roads are quiet and my neighbours sleep. 

I'm out walking the dog as the sun breaks cover over the crest of Spittal Hill.  The moors glow shades of pink and peach, the wind is cold.  I treasure these moments, when I have the world to myself.

As I walk, I think.  I think about this blog, and what I do here.  I no longer run, and its taken months to accept that.  But I still have my dreams of doing interesting things, I still have my doubts about the systems and routines and expectations that make those interesting dreams so difficult to attain.

So, it's pretty simple really, I'll just go back to writing about all those systems that bug me so much.

Hey presto, hallelujah, abrakedabra, all sorted. 

Tune in next time for more tales of cynicism, negativity, doubt and determination.  I'm beginning to think that might be what I do best!

Image by stevendepolo

Half Cut: Long Gone

It's Saturday night. I sit at my desk, King Creosote crooning beside me.  A half-drafted work of fiction has turned my eyes square.  A half-stitched quilt has looped loops into my eyeballs.  A half-drunk bottle of red wine makes my world wobble.  The weekend is half-gone, I am half-cut, it's good to have time for all this.  G'night.

Most excellent felt eyeballs by ingermaaike2

How My Bank Wasted My Time Asking Me Stupid Questions: And Still Made Me Happy

A few weeks ago, I got a phone call from one of those call-centre marketing surveys, asking me all sorts of questions about how I perceived my bank.  In general, I perceive banks as scum.  Strangely though, that wasn't one of the questions.  At no point during the phonecall was I asked to rank my bank on a scale of one to ten, where one is not remotely scummy, and ten is the pinnacle of high-scumdom.  What they did ask me was loads of very stupid questions.

For example, 'on a scale of one to ten, how likely are you  to recommend this bank's ATMs?'  Who recommends ATMs? 

Anyway, I digress. 

This banking survey did ask me one very useful question.  It asked me whether I'd seen any of their adverts.  My answers were as follows:

• TV - no (don't have one).
• Cinema - no (the nearest cinema is well over 100 miles away, and I haven't been for nearly two years).
• Billboards - no (do you do billboards on sheep?  clouds?  moorland?  ruined crofting villages?).
• Newspapers & Magazines - don't think so (do you do ads in the local paper?  Haven't noticed. Otherwise, I don't generally bother with print media).
• Internet - possibly (I am an internet junkie, so I probably have, but I'm not sure advertising works in quite the same way online, I never ever click through on ads, I'm not sure I even see them...).

This information probably wasn't all that useful to the bank.  But it was incredibly useful to me.

I now realise that I live a life with fairly limited exposure to advertising.  

This is a good thing, a great thing.  It isn't something I ever set out to do.  But, after moving to the sticks and ditching the TV a couple of years ago so that I'd have more time in my life to do the things that matter to me, I did begin to become aware that I was... happier.  That's the only word for it.  Happier.  And only part of that happiness is due to doing more stuff that I like to do.  A crucial factor is that I no longer have a constant stream of messages coming at me, telling me:

You could be so much happier if... so much cooler if... so much more attractive if... so much more efficient if... so much more enviable if... so much more successful if...  so much sexier if... so much more relaxed if... so much better if...  so much cleaner if... so much more fragrant if... so much more beautiful if... so much thinner if...

I'm not trying to sell you anything, but honestly:

You could be so much happier if... you cut the sources of advertising out of your life.

This article was made possible by the Bank of Scum.

Picture by Alan Cleaver

Back From The Void

I've been gone for ages.  I almost deleted Traildreamer.  And then, a week or so ago, I was travelling north on the train, rushing through hours of total black-out darkness, mind numb and backside aching (those seats do get uncomfortable), when this long-forgotten little blog bubbled up out of nowhere and called me back.  So I'm back.

I was seduced, for a long time, by all sorts of problogger advice, all sorts of entrepreneurial dreams, and I read up and studied all round the realm of Blogistan for tips and tricks to blog better.  What happened?  I blogged worse.  I tried to develop a 'proper' voice.  Did I get one?  No, all I did was nearly lose the only one I've got.  I messed around with self-hosting Wordpress, and got it all set up lovely, but it wasn't me.  I was clunky and awkward, like an insecure teenager in braces trying to be something I wasn't, I'm not, never will be, never want to be.  Quit trying to run with the cool kids.  It's all flash and mirrors anyway.

I'm happier here.  I am Traildreamer, I am nearly anonymous, I don't flash my name and identity about for all to see in the hope of building a brand or a tribe, trust or community, though there are folks who know who I am and its not a secret as such.  That is just not the function of this blog.  I've nothing to sell, so sod it with all the sales and marketing.  I'm just me, footering about with thoughts and ideas, that I may feel strongly, but I don't want to shout from the rooftops.  The rooftops round here are pretty low anyway, I live in a region of crofts and cottages and vast empty spaces. 

So hello again.  Though I know I speak out into the void.  That's part of the pleasure.  Hello again.

Image by cod_gabriel