Devon, on the South Coast of England, has a deep, profound affect on me. It is etched into my mind, that the only place I get a mindful sense of true serenity, able to block out any negative aspect of my life that may be strangling my existance, is south Devon. It’s a World away from everything. There is no fear. There is no worry. There is no conflict. It sits upon a higher plateau of existance and thought in my ever growing constantly perplexed mind.
I’m becoming deeply disatisfied with life, and I cannot figure out what I dislike, or how to change it. I’m not scrupulously unhappy, or crying out for any kind of help, but there constantly feels like there’s a void. Something that I cannot seem to understand. There’s a dire conflict between my need for absolute serenity, and the feeling that if I don’t speed through life like every businessman on the planet, i’m ultimately going to fail. I cannot harmonise the two.
South Devon, be it Dawlish or Starcross, has the most calming affect on me. More so than being around family, or friends. Even the country road leading to the coast, a mile or so away, amplifying the distinct sound of the seagull that when translated into English, will always be “Welcome to your peace” in my mind. The thought alone, is so profoundly melodious that it has the ability to turn me from a stressed wreck on the verge of tears unable to cope with my own seemingly horrible lack of motivation and my incessent need to question everything around me, to a peaceful, spiritual being, clear of all thoughts other than the melliflous sound of the ocean crashing gently into the rocks on which I sit tentatively, every time I, in essence, meditate.
I think the entire deep-rooted peaceful feeling that I get, rellies on the fact that I know that life is difficult, and it’s fast, and it’s an endless chase for fortune, that it’s stressful and often lugubriously inadequate, and so it’s comforting to know that a place of such magnificent solitude is always there, waiting for me. My entire life has been city based. Fast, worries, money problems, family arguments, heart beat racing when things seem to be going wrong, scared to leave the house at night because of the inner city mindless street gangs, police cars racing past every other minute, cars in traffic at 8am beeping mindlessly into the conflicting calm morning air, the local news demanding my attention for nothing but violence and intolerance. And then suddenly, I discover a place, 300 miles away, with such serene coastline, and a such a lack of fear of crime, in that the most criminal thing i’d seen in Leicester, is a man being kicked in the face by a gang of six men, who I then read in the news the next day, had, after i’d left, pulled out a knife and stabbed the victim, almost killing him. Contrast the violence of that situation, with the most criminal activity i’ve ever came across in south devon, being this oddly humorous criminal offence……
And you start to get the feeling that one of my main worries, is my own safety and shelter from harm. Contrast is a big part of my life. The contrast between my views on sex, and those who believe sex to be reserved for those in love. The contrast between my liberal tolerant views, and those of the Daily Mail reading audience filled with hate and rage. The contrast between my understanding that the Open Market Capitalism can be so beneficial, and yet my feeling that the concept is so deeply flawed when it still allows people to be dying of poverty everyday. The contrast between my entire life spent in the City, the rush and the fetish for success and money, and yet my seemingly dire need for absolute peace and serenity, away from any materialistic thought, so much so that when i’m that stressed, I close my eyes, and picture myself sat on the rocks of the beach in Dawlish, early morning sunrise, with no one else around, just me and the ocean, and there is nothing that can make me happier or more relaxed than that image, like a poster there to remind me everytime I start to panic. If I somehow lost that tranquil, untroubled, at peace with myself feeling, unable to find it again, or if it’s power over me suddenly disintegrated, ripped apart by pressure and panic, unable to balance the anguish of a fast, largely fatuous money-chasing life, with the tranquility and serenity I so beautifully rely on, i’d be lost.
This picture will obviously mean nothing to the small variety of individuals who happen to read my blog, but to me, it’s the very pinnacle of what it means to be at peace with myself. The emptiness, the calming light, the incredibly soft nature of the incoming waves. It all plays it’s part.
Posted by futiledemocracy 
