2014 ushers in much like the day before or the week before and I’ve come to understand that goals don’t jump in front of you like a surprise. More in tortoise manner, they’re a trifling staccato towards perceived ends. Most times the result morphs with time, not exactly what you’d first imagined but more than gaining a circumstance, it’s the traveler who’s built muscle with each trod.
Staccato, detached notes by definition are still part of a larger composition and if that doesn’t make sense then this whole rant will be for nothing.
This one’s a little hard to write and I’ve spent some days mulling it over before finally deciding it’s worth writing down. After one-too-many cat calls and some oddball trailing my steps in a not too comfortable manner, I suppose sharing these points do help.
Traveling alone is chock full of benefits. One recent book whose pages I’ve been flitting through quoted Rudyard Kipling, perfectly: “He travels fastest who travels alone.”
Pensive behavior and rumination is wretched by wrong company. I figure, if one can meet forms of harassment while in Singapore what’s to say it can’t happen in other parts of the world? Not to paint things in dull, flaking fresco, I’ve only picked from actual experience.
Switch it up
Several routes lead to one destination. Take different routes at different times of the day, wherever you may be headed. Establishing a pattern makes you more predictable and easier to ambush, if needed. You get the drift.
Off the line
Quit informing social media of whereabouts and posting pictures of your location at each exact second. Not wanting to be stalked involves responsibility for online behavior. Just because facebook asks for your location doesn’t mean you have to follow. Who’s the human in this conversation?
Not against helping people asking for directions; I’d had my share of walking up and down Raffles Place with a question marked on my face. One unfortunate man had to have some mongrel of ethnicity chime into his shop asking: “which direction is Cross Street?” I can’t forget the bigger question mark on his face but he pointed me in the right direction soon enough.
Reverse the situation and someone asked directions of you, dead of night and chills are up your spine then it’s not good timing–to say the least. Hurry to the closest, best lit establishment. Should they follow, inform security then get a cab to the safest destination you can think of.
Once there, things should be better. If, for some reason there’s anarchy (possibly the undead and terminator robots) then… not sure there’s anything I can do to help.
Leave a message for your buddy when you’ve left someplace and when you’ve arrived. Details like a cab’s plate number should be included. Friends and I, we apply this strictly. Should anything happen along the way, finding you gets much easier.
Wherever you are, be equipped to make a run whenever needed, take note of possible exits, be aware of possible threats. Terrible as it sounds, apply profiling where needed. Maybe this only applies to me–rather, it’s something I like to live by. Not worrying about movement helps with clearer thinking and, in a classroom setting, that little difference can spell a century of differences.
More importantly though: live with caution but never allow circumstances to stifle life. If Mandela could turn Robben Island into earth-shattering foundations for his soul then what’s keeping us from doing the same? Much of life is shaped by perception and response, after all.