Settling In to Scotland

I love exploring new places, and thanks to my job I have been fortunate enough to travel regularly to far-flung locations across the globe. This year alone, in the space of just two months I have spent time in the US, Ireland, London, Mexico, and Greece.

As alluring as it may appear to operate as an international man of mystery, successive weeks on-the-go can also be pretty exhausting. And no, it’s nothing to do with age, so shut it. No matter how hard you try, or how solid your intentions, the truth is that ‘healthy’ habits become impossible to maintain, as well as maintaining meaningful relationships outside of work. Sure, going to cool restaurants and drinking every night with different people might seem fantastic on paper, and acht. Aye. Okay, it is. But in practice, it also inevitably leads to something of a transient existence…. and increasingly, after a long time invested in that kind of reality, I have come to really appreciate my friends, family, and community in Scotland. Especially as of late.

Life is short. A clichéd truism that feels ever more relevant with age, and whilst an impatience for new sensations (yes, that is an Evan Dando reference) often drives us to fill up our time with grand expeditions and noteworthy moments, there is real magic to be found in the so-called mundane; a beauty in the everyday. There is a certain kind of freedom that comes with having the physical, mental, and scheduling space to go for drinks or a BBQ with yer pals, or yer dad, or yer cousin on a Monday night just because. The ability to enjoy the limited time you have with your dog and their short existence. The chance to bump into old friends and the flexibility to let those connections bloom again. The potential to just live a full and meaningful life for the sake of it – in all of its messy, non-linear ways.

It wasn’t all that long ago that I felt an immense pressure to make plans and catch up with people; the sense and expectation of never quite doing enough – being a crap friend. Going through the motions to tick people off the list on the calendar in some kind of rotational social hellscape, rather than actually ever fully embracing or appreciating the time spent together. Everyday adult existence felt like a never-ending treadmill of obligations, a fact that probably explains why escaping into more detached, work-based relationships was appealing.

Plant seeds. Invest time tending to those that matter. Let the roots grow.

In some ways, this appreciation for the importance of everyday life has also stimulated – or at least been linked to – my return to shooting 35mm. For whatever reason, times captured on digital feel far more disposable than those on film, and while that might seem obvious, I also wonder how much the act of taking pictures impacts our perception of the events themselves. In other words: Do I subconsciously attribute less meaning to life when I approach it through the lens of a digital camera, as opposed to a film one? Does the act of analogue documentation itself perhaps carry with it a particular, innate significance, that alters my perception and recollection of experiences? If so, is it possible to shift the manner that we engage with our surroundings and remember our lives through deliberate choices of medium? I think there is maybe something in that.

Whatever the answers to my meandering self-reflections might be, I am glad to be back in Scotland, and glad to be embracing the magic of everyday life.