4th Jan - I've wasted my life...

I once mused, on why birds have wings, and humans don't. "We do," came the reply. "But most people don't choose to use them." The truth is, our chances of being here on earth right now, are 1 in 400 trillion. Yes, you read that correctly. Those are your odds of any single one sperm cell fertilising the egg at the right moment, and resulting in your existence, as a living and breathing organism. Throw into that our consciousness as the most intelligent mammal species on the planet (Hi, Dolphins), and the consideration that our particular generation is alive during the tiny 100 year period or so since aviation was invented, during the lifespan of a planet 4.5 billion years in age, and 'lucky' doesn't even begin to cover it. Our Earth is - to our own human understanding - large, but in the grand scheme of our solar system, our galaxy, or the universe, the significance of this spinning rock would not even be picked up as a speck under the most advanced magnifying lens on a microscope. So, now, with that in mind, consider how your own local 'area' pales into insignificance, and we're only just taking a first half-step onto the ladder of understanding.

Our species is equipped with the technology to see as much of our planet as time, and perhaps most importantly, money, will allow. And yet, we still choose to waste our finances, and waste our life on all that will expire. The food you excrete, the fluids you dispel, every item of clothing which eventually wears out, or toiletry product which becomes more empty with every use. I understand, that to an extent, all of these items are fundamental in human lifestyle, nor am I set to become CEO of the Amish anytime soon. I'm the biggest hypocrite of all, sat here typing on MacBook, as my iPhone pings away next to me, and I buy into the evil capitalist culture of my £6 per month Netflix subscription, surrounded by scented candles, and rugs and tables and all those that the 'lucky' few in the Western World have become accustomed to, but that no human needs for survival. I feel nauseous when I think about how much of my life I've wasted. How much of my money (and consequently, my time, which is - by the way - the greatest currency of all), I've spent on needless shit which will only perish one day in future. All those that we've been brainwashed into believing are fundamental parts of our existence... When I could have been using those same resources to spread my wings and see all that is beautiful, natural, and true. 

Don't worry, I'm not having a breakdown. But so many of my friends and family carry a mental reputation of myself, as someone who has travelled so much of the world, and loves to see new Cities and cultures. The latter half of that sentence is correct, but sadly, the former is not. I'm 31 years old, and since gaining my first passport when I was 18, I've visited 16 countries. Do you realise how pathetic that is? That's barely over 1 per year. There are 195 countries on our globe, and I'm yet to even see 10% of them. It's a stat I'm ashamed of, and the blame is entirely at my own door. Like so many of our species, I've found comfort in certain locations and visited them over and over and over again, like a homing pigeon with Stockholm syndrome. 22 flights between the United Kingdom and Ibiza, 12 trips between London and Amsterdam. From now on, outside of any pre-existing bookings or unless it involves visiting family, I'm never visiting the same place twice, because there's still so much to see, and who knows how much time to see it in? I'm always told not to worry, as I'm not even "halfway through your life yet" but maybe I'm 85% of my way through... Maybe I'm 98% of my way through? Tomorrow is certainly not promised, and I've lived long enough, and seen enough practical cases, to realise that life doesn't always end at the age of 80 in a peaceful hospital bed with a perm on my head and tales of the Second World War in my locker. The only thing that can defeat us, in any of our pursuits on this planet, is time. 

Of course, I realise that not even Attenborough himself can cover every blade of grass, but do we not at least owe it to ourselves to try? I've certainly never truly felt the concept of 'home' and nor can I ever say I've ever felt compelled to stay in one place throughout my existence. Certain geographical locations may appeal to your soul more than others, usually on account of the memories you've associated with your experiences in those destinations, but the truth is, our entire planet is our 'home', not the pile of disposable bricks and water clumped onto a spot of concrete. I'd happily switch my location wherever - and whenever - needed, dependant on work or lifestyle etc. After all... Should we not, in theory, spend more time outside of our houses, than inside them? Such is the the beauty which nature can offer us. 

Today, I sorted a trip to the United States. Yesterday, I was finalising details of a volunteering mission to Ghana. The day before that? My journey to the Middle East later on in the year. I certainly don't have an endless pot of finances, far from it! I actually earn less than most, and blog-writing certainly doesn't pay well. But life is about organising your priorities and carefully analysing the ways you'll make them succeed at all costs, and as my partner often states, "Travelling is the only thing that makes you richer". You can interpret that quote in any way you want, but whichever way you look at it, you realise it to be true. Because as you, eventually, lay on your death-bed, as we all will someday, the daunting realisation will hit you, that the house you lived in, and the expensive clutter inside of it, is about to become obsolete. Your clothes, your bags, your make-up, your golf-clubs, your comical battery-operated singing Billy Bass fish on the wall plaque. The only thing you'll be left with, is your memories, and they won't be of 4 pints of Carling in The Red Lion. They'll be of glorious sunrises and sunsets, cool waves lapping at your ankles on warm sandy shores, and wading through rainforests with the chirping tweets of the tree-lodged birds ringing in your ears.

I'll leave you with a conversation which occurred yesterday via a good friend of mine... An international DJ (who I won't name for legal reasons) who has truly lived 'the life' (I use inverted commas because it's the life people think they want, until they realise how superficial it can be)... He told me of how he'd raced the fastest cars, had sex with the most beautiful women, and shoved just about every mood enhancer he could find up his nose or down his throat, but what he'd finally realised was that none of it ever made him as happy, as giving something back. Helping local communities, travelling to places and devoting time to stop and speak with those less fortunate than himself. Understanding the plight of the homeless, the drug addicts, and the wayward ravers. As he so expertly put it, "I'm not telling people to stop sitting on their phones, looking at tits on Instagram. But how about you just look at tits for 23 hours? And do something worthwhile and meaningful, for the other hour." He concluded that it's hard to get people to realise that there's more to life than the GUCCI adverts in the middle of Vogue magazine, but that in doing so, it's tough to not appear like a "preachy cunt". Perhaps, you too, may believe I've adopted an undertone of preaching cunt in this particular blog. After all, who am I to tell you how to live your life? If sitting in front of Holby City every night with your Shepherd's Pie is what gets your creative juices flowing, then you go, Glen Coco. But the next time someone asks you where you've travelled to, your answer should be the same as mine...

"I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list."