I love these writing prompts because they’re posed in such a way that you can either take them literally, as I do sometimes, or use them to explore real depths, as I also do sometimes. And perhaps that is one of the simple things I do that brings joy to my life. It isn’t the one I’m going to talk about though.
When I first saw this prompt yesterday, I was in a New Moon funk. I had woken up in a really over-emotional, still tired, fed up kind of mood where I didn’t know what to do with myself other than journal in a really self-pitying way and mire myself in the whirlpool of the funk. I tried meditating, the crows cawing in the garden and knocking on my bedroom window upstairs sent me into a rage, and I was a one-woman scarecrow in my bedroom for a little while trying to get them to stop. It’s an incredibly loud noise and I am consistently worried that they’re going to break the window. It’s the same at this time of year, has been for the past three years or so, their knocking on the window incessantly. That behaviour (mine or theirs) does not bring joy to my life.
Anyway, I managed to get through my meditation and the message that kept on being repeated to me was ‘focus’. It was irritating in the mood I was in and I wanted to shout “on what?!”. But I kept hearing it over and over, ‘focus’. So, I went back downstairs, decided to focus on writing a blog, saw this question and thought…’nothing gives me joy’ because that was the kind of mood I was in! Today, I’m in a completely different mood, and of course there are things that bring me joy. Always the simple things. Like getting a hug from my son, which are becoming rarer than hen’s teeth now he’s almost a teenager, but in that brief moment I feel real joy. Having a cuddle with my dog, when he really engages with the cuddle, that brings me huge joy. Getting a hug from my husband, that brings me joy and a sense of safety. The bottom line to this is that love brings me huge joy as expressed through the simplest of actions like a hug.
Another simple thing that brings me joy is watching the most gentlest of television programmes that I now religiously tune into – ‘Canal Boat Diaries’ which is a show about a man who lives on his beautiful narrow boat (the Naughty Lass), and travels the length and breadth of England’s waterways (it might be the UK’s but I’ve only seen England on there), taking us through his journey on the programme. It is incredibly simple but so very beautiful. He details the history of the creation of the canals, and the industries they served before the railway took over. I sit and marvel at the engineering that was put in place in the late eighteenth century when canal-building for the Industrial Revolution was first started by the Duke of Bridgewater in 1761 who wanted to transport his coal to Manchester. He was ably assisted by the engineer, James Brindle who was (as an aside) home-schooled by his mother and went on to become one of the most successful canal engineers of his time. The first canal in Britain, though, was actually built by the Romans who created the Fossdyke from Lincoln to the River Trent for drainage and navigation. The Chinese can be credited, however, with being the first most proliferate canal builders, beginning in the tenth century.
This programme, though, really is the simplest of joys for me. It takes us through the English countryside, past historic buildings linked to the Industrial Revolution, through beautiful villages and market towns and into the big cities. It provides me with a different view of my country, one I’m not overly familiar with having only sailed on the River Thames (on a canal boat), the Norfolk Broads and the rivers around Ipswich on a cruiser. The programme has me hooked. I love the architecture of viaducts, they are so simple yet to me so very elegant. As you watch Robbie Cumming’s make his progress along the canals, there are also the sights of the small arched bridges which, with their reflection in the water, are a perfect oval. Seeing that always warms me. And I love an aqueduct. I haven’t sailed across one but it is now my intention to do so – the one last night was hilarious, it was so small that the nose of the narrowboat was off it just as the back end was on it. But, it was still an aqueduct and it might be on the top of my list to visit first.
For me, this programme represents a freedom in the presenter’s way of life. Of course, he is at the mercy of nature, but that in itself is a form of freedom. He has a very intimate relationship both with his boat and nature, a connection to both which is simply beautiful. His huge appreciation for all that he is seeing, what he is able to do, his explanation of what it is like to live on a narrowboat and sail around the country is incredibly gentle yet, to me, very profound. He has a boyish enthusiasm when he encounters a stretch of water he hasn’t explored before, or not for a long time, and for the towns and cities he moors at where perhaps he hasn’t spent much time in before. I had never before thought of going to Northampton, but in last night’s programme he showed me a town that is more than just the identikit towns we get so much in England. He highlighted the beautiful architecture, the little idiosyncrasies of a historic town, and inspired me to add it to the list of places to go and explore for myself.
I love the idea of that kind of life, one where you get to explore somewhere new, or even somewhere familiar but certainly different from where you are, every day if you so wish. I’ve often daydreamed about getting a motorhome and just going off around Europe for six months or so. Obviously, all of which with my little family. Having that freedom, getting rid of the ‘stuff’ that anchors us too much, being a digital nomad and having my son’s online/home education supplemented by experiences. What better way of learning about nature than being in it rather than a classroom? Let nature be the classroom. Learn about history by being where its relics are. Learn about maths by navigation systems. How much better would that be as an education? Learn languages by being in the country of their origin. Getting an education that will get you through exams by having experiences, not sitting in a classroom. Meeting new and different people all the time. Marvellous.
These are the thoughts this programme inspires in me. I can feel the history of the landscape just by watching it, feel it in the stately homes and country piles he sails past occasionally. In the derelict buildings along the canal paths, monuments to a previous time. Not always one many will want to remember, or remember with fondness because the reality of working in the mills and factories that relied on the canals was often incredibly unpleasant for the workers if not for the bosses who built the stately homes and great country piles off the backs of the workers. I appreciate that in building them, more employment was created but again, it wasn’t always the nicest of conditions. I don’t have anything against people making a lot of money, by the way, I hope to as well. But I do have a lot against people making a lot of money by treating others harshly and displaying breathtaking levels of greed and antipathy towards the plight of others.
Well, this has taken a path I wasn’t expecting. I had intended to talk about reading or writing as being a simply joy in my life, which it is. But the idyll of life on a narrowboat (though I know it isn’t always), the gentleness of that existence as portrayed in Canal Boat Diaries by Robbie, is one of the simple joys in my life for which I am very grateful So, thank you Robbie, your production team, and the person who agreed to commission the programme. You bring a simple bit of joy to my life after dinner every evening. What more can I ask for.
Louisa Simpson 