Other than a brief visit for work and a couple of train connections, I’ve not been back to Manchester for about 10 years. I used to live here back in 2011/12, and it feels good to be here again. It was a challenging but, now I look back on it, transformative time. It set me up for all that was to come – the tent living times, the cycle journey to Bhutan, the present journey, and all the seemingly small stuff in between.

All-ways transforming

The two-day journey on foot over from Preston was transformative too…

I left Preston on Sunday after just a few days in that city. I felt inspired from my time in Preston. And although I was sad leaving, there was the pull of the onward journey and all the anxiety and excitement that comes with it.

Although, on the journey over, I felt different inside. I can see that something has definitely calmed within me. It’s like a new level of confidence has developed. I’m in the flow of the journey – open, curious, alive – more than before. I am actually doing this, and I’ve got far enough now to believe I could make it.

From there to here – connection is priority

It was a pleasant start walking along the River Ribble, but a huge chunk of the day was on roads. There were options to divert on footpaths through random fields, but experience has taught me that on a not completely dry day on lesser used paths that means wet feet and trousers from going through long grass. Plus, there are dodgy stiles to contend with and it takes a lot longer. And so the road it was, which also gave more opportunities to connect with people along the way.

I sat at a ‘happy to chat’ bench and in less than 2 minutes a gentleman saddled up beside me to tell a bit of his life history, recommending a few good eating places on my route. Later as I walked, there were a few hoots by passing vehicles and waves from those inside…an older woman who stopped to talk about her own walking experiences back in the days. And others too.

I’ll always take the opportunity to connect with the curious. Especially when I’m feeling at peace and calm in myself and I don’t need the nature connection to soothe me. I was surprised at how peaceful I felt along the road. Something has shifted within.

After many miles of road connection I picked up the Witton Weavers Way, taking me along a canal, then a river, and a stretch of reservoirs, and up into moorland.

Then an inconspicuous camp, which to my surprise didn’t come with any difficult anxieties as can sometimes happen. I was away early in the morning, off the Moor long before most people are awake. There were some more reservoirs with an abundance of nature besides them. Tweeting birdies, some tranquil looking forests, and a couple of deer. And then back into urbanity…the outskirts of Bolton and into deep Manchester, where I’m well looked after.

What’s changed

Now that I’m not in classic walking lands, I’m meeting all sorts of different people. People that don’t necessarily get the journey on the first blink, but are curious nevertheless. Of course most people don’t even notice me wondering past, or at least pretend not to, but when the connections come there is a magic behind them. The chances of that moment happening – two passing strangers. The inspiration it ignites in me, in them, to take forth on our onward personal journeys.

I can see a clear shift in confidence within me. I feel more connected and peaceful. I’ve relaxed into my journey. To the point where I could stop now and be content with that as an outcome. I’m mid-journey now and it feels right to go on. If it didn’t, I’d stop.

Back to Manchester

I was 32 when I moved to Manchester. Long enough into my 30’s to know it was going to be a lot better than my 20’s. In some ways how I was feeling then parallels what’s happened in this journey. I had enough sense of what life was really about and something within was beginning to calm (or at least that any panic I did feel was nothing in itself to panic about). I had ushered in a few loving and functional relationships to my life, and I’d begun to appreciate how much societal structures could drag down my wellbeing if i wasn’t careful (see this post for more as to what I mean by this).

I’m generally sceptical of bigger cities, like London where I grew up, or Paris where I’d lived the year before I came to Manchester, as places for major societal change. Now, that might be something genuine, because as centres of power, the vested interests might be too strong to allow much disruption of the status quo (doesn’t real change happen on the fringes?).

However, it could just be that I revert to dysfunctional habits in such places. When I’m in London, for example, I revert to habits that are protective – more about surviving and coping – than use the new skills I’ve developed over the years. Skills such as being present in mind, body, and soul, when what’s around me is deeply unpleasant and disturbing. Or just being more open and curious than I am in a familiar setting.

In Manchester I saw things with fresh eyes. Rather than get hooked into the usual attention grabbers for the supposed good life, Instead, I tuned into all the unusual stuff happening around me – starting with flyers people stick up on walls, the deeper messages conveyed through art work, the community projects and the underpinning motivations for creating them, alternative economic ideas, the independent shops and businesses that we might just see squeezed between big glitzy looking multinationals…that sort of thing. I began to see through the gloss, and connecting to what was really happening around me, and also what needed to happen for more of us to live well.

Lets just say that in Manchester, I began noticing things I hadn’t noticed before. Really difficult things too – disparities, health struggles, poverty. Not much has changed behind the flashy buildings that have gone up in the years since.

But I hadn’t been able to notice all these things before Manchester. I’d been too caught up in the traps set out for me. And I’m grateful for my time here. I’d have stayed and contributed to the spaces I became part of, but I only had research funding for a year. And so I left and went onto the next place, still in search of home…

*** This blog was written as part of my journey about home, in which I’m walking from Edinburgh to Croydon. You can find out more as to why I’m doing it on this page. Thanks.