Episode 111 'Perspective'

Well, I finally did it.

Whether it was due to the overwhelming anxiety-driven previous 12 months or simply pure instinct telling me to take the plunge into the unknown, I left the studio. It was something I had wanted to do for most of 2023, but the need for routine and stability amongst colleagues and friends overcame my adventurous ambitions. I think it helped me, the structure of daily familiarities; not quite a regular yoga practice but it was something. 

But as I continued to work on these small projects, my motivation really waned. I must point out that this was, by no means, the fault of the studio. Whatever is happening with me, it's a personal matter (internally, I would say) and nothing to do with the work of others.  And for me to fully reflect on the mental, spiritual and physical factors of Tommy Grainger's life, I packed up the van and went on a six week road trip around Portugal and Spain. 

I originally had the idea of keeping a travel blog filled with updates and photographs, but quickly I realised how useless my laptop really is, ruining all zen within my campervan environment. It usually takes me 20 minutes to switch it on, fiddling with the power cable and the angle it needs to enter the computer. But I have the unfortunate trait of adapting to misery instead of investing in something that actually works! So I gave myself a real break; away from technology, Netflix and important emails (the latter would certainly bite me in the ass further down the line). I didn't disconnect completely. I think I would have gotten pretty lonely if I had done so. But it was great to immerse myself back into reading, playing my guitar, writing some poetry and sewing more badges onto my blanket. Also, just listening to music or podcasts and sitting there... listening, sitting. All terribly wholesome acts of peace and tranquillity. 

But it's not all rainbows and butterflies!

[dated 25/04/2024] I finally got my laptop to work *groan* so I was able to catch up with X-Men '97 and send one email. I am currently in Aveiro and for some reason I am having a major reality check. It feels like the beginnings of a panic attack; my chest is convulsing and there is an aching in my heart. I know the answer to one of these sudden pains - I wrote a poem about her last week. But Aveiro is a wonderful place and I deem this sudden anxiety a result of being back amongst large crowds of people, after living solitary in nature for a few weeks.

    I sat by the canal in the sunshine, surrounded by bustling tourist groups chasing that rainbow flag to the next landmark. Happy (or not so happy) couples wandered idly hand in hand. One American couple I was sure I passed on a hike in Serra da Estrella the week before. I had a couple of beers and a cigarette, contemplating my next move. The most pressing matters at hand; where to park the van for the night and when to cook my dinner of instant noodles. But here I am, finding it hard to breathe through my anxiety because I'm watching an old couple lovingly hold hands and allowing all of my regrets to resurface. I should write a poem about it.  

[present day] The break from the studio has been both beneficial and a worry for me. Since I left, there has been a huge difference in how I have balanced myself; things like exercise, diet and mindfulness. I am already very conscious about these aspects in life, but having the additional time to appreciate them can make such a difference. As Gandalf once said, "I've found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay" and if you heed the advice of such a great wizard, then you would do well in life. (Apologies for the sudden change in text colour - it cannot be amended for some bizarre reason. Don't worry, it's not your phone or eyes! It's my ineptitude for using basic blog settings).

    I met some truly wonderful people on my travels and listened to all they had to say. North of Nazare I met a German names Steffan. He had been living and travelling in his old green campervan for over seven years, with only his dog for company. I swear this guy could be a life coach. As he imparted advice and wisdom, reflecting on his own experiences of love and loss, I sat there transfixed on his beautiful attitude towards life. Then suddenly he stripped all of his clothes and ran across the sand to jump into the sea, laughing like a maniac as he fled. Alas, I did not join him, but perhaps I should have. The joy on his face was exceptional.  

    Another memorable meeting was with a nomadic Swiss couple who had cycled from Switzerland, across France and Spain and onwards to Morocco... on a tandem bike. They had only met last October! I offered them a ride in the van for a few hours (which, in bicycle terms, could be a few days) and we discovered this beautiful waterfall and lagoon, not long after we left the campsite. They also stripped off all of their clothes and jumped in. Noticing a pattern with the people I met, I decided not to be such a prude this time and clumsily discarded my clothes to join them. Of course, this coincided with the group of elderly ramblers who hiked to the top of the waterfall and peered over to behold three naked bodies in this aquatic scene of revelry. I heard a couple of gasps, but I'll warrant they were in glee and not utter shock. 

My philosophy in life only comes from places of true meaning; places that I hold dear to myself. Whether it be cultural or spiritual sources, wise words from friends and family or fictional worlds and characters of whom have been intertwined with my journey through the stories we love, I hold value to them all. When I meditate, I often listen to a Star Wars playlist and recall the Jed code. When I go on a hike I always imagine that I am on a quest of some kind. I even have the One Ring somewhere, oh wait, it's... here in my pocket. I remember breathing exercises that Lucy taught me. I think about Ikigai and how to find that purpose in life. I recall advice that my Grandfather gave me about chasing the dream that makes me happy. 

When you are confronted with this moment in time, where you lack focus, inspiration or question your own purpose, I think it is very important to take a step away from everything. The title of this blog post is perspective and I think upon returning from my van trip I honestly can say that I found some. It hit me after I did a breath work retreat in Arrabida, Setubal led by the wonderful Tom Maryniak (Instagram) and the effects of this session is still with me today. Imagine a combination of Wim Hof breathing techniques, a peaceful natural setting under the shade of some trees and a group of like-minded spiritual people; it was beautiful. 

    As I lay back, I prepared myself for what would be my final lesson in clarity. The breathing began. For over thirty minutes we each found a rhythm and, with the guidance of Tom, urged ourselves to let go. The visuals that were appearing in my mind as the intense breathing exercise took over my body were incredible. It was a journey through your inner most emotions and thoughts, whether positive or negative. We were encouraged to simply let everything out, cleansing our mind, body and soul. 

So I cried. Like, a lot. 

It seems that there were a lot of inner demons that hadn't been faced yet. But amidst the kaleidoscope of emotion I visualised two things that gave me pure happiness and it became my focus (not just for this journey, but for the aftermath and beyond). You may ask me what they are, if you are so bold, as I shall not be mentioning them here. They belong in my heart.

I think this is a good place to end the post. 

But please return soon, because I have so much to write about including the Annecy Animation Film festival 2024 and my upcoming project '3D Watercolours' (working title). 

Namaste