Freedom to Think: Blog One
I’ve got a new dog! Actually that’s not quite true. I’ve had him for six months now, but it still feels like a recent event. It’s the sense of newness that comes from having all your preconceptions turned upside down. His name is Alfie and he’s a Cavapoo (or Cavoodle, if you’re from Australia), which is a poodle and King Charles cavalier spaniel crossed. He has a spaniely nose, big floppy ears and lovely cream hair with flecks of brown in it. If your favourite cappuccino suddenly grew four legs and turned into a dog, Alfie would be the result. He’s also very small. When we got him, we guessed he was the runt of the litter (you could tell by the lines of paw marks zigzagging across his back), and he hasn’t grown a great deal since. But right from the first he displayed both the fluffy bounciness that’s expected of a pup, and the kind of zen-like inner calm and common-sense that isn’t. So he has the healthy hobbies of any self-respecting hound (e.g. stealing stray underpants and running off to bury them in the garden), but is also more than happy curling up on my lap of an evening, helping me work my way through my latest box-set. In short, he’s a very well-balanced fellow.
Anyway, as canine friends go, he’s a winner, and that’s something I never thought I’d come to write. Why? Simply because having never owned a dog before, I was always somewhat cautious about the implications. In essence I feared the poo-bags, the yelps and whines, and the constant hassling for attention (and, as a father of three, believe me I knew what I was talking about here). Above all, I was really worried that the new pet would be a big drain on my time. This year I’ve been working on the ideas for several new writing projects, and I was frightened that Alfie would make it even more difficult to concentrate on them.
But to my surprise things haven’t worked out that way. The main shock is that as well as being an excavator of my flower-bed, Alfie is a specialist at digging up time I didn’t know I had. He needs his walks, and he needs his visits to the bottom of the garden at 6.15a.m. when I’ve just staggered out of bed. And in all these moments he forces me to take a step or two away from the daily treadmill and its endless time constraints. In the summer, I listened to the humming of the bees and watched the birds weave their invisible cats-cradles in the air. I went for strolls in the fields, circling the ripening wheat, leaving bone-dry clouds of dust rising from the path between my tramping boots. Now, in the autumn, I see the mists enveloping the empty, muddy lanes, and follow the slow curve of the red kites’ flight over the trees and hills. And it does me good to see these things, rather than not see them. Sometimes I think about important things, and other times I don’t, but always my mind has a chance to clear out some of the internal logjams that threaten to overwhelm it. By the time I’m back at my desk I’m that little bit rejuvenated, and it’s all thanks to the small shaggy white companion pottering at my side.
None of this should have been a surprise to me. For a while now I’ve been talking about the importance of time and space in all our lives: the free time that loosens the ties that bind us, and the free space that helps remind us who we are. That’s what Freedom to Think is all about, after all – investing in quiet moments that don’t have an agenda. Despite my good intentions, however, I’ve all too often ended up filling my day with nothing but chores and tasks. After all, there are always endless hurdles to navigate: school events, sports, shopping, household jobs… They form an endless, self-perpetuating line, and even now I find it almost impossible to break free of them without amassing guilt and stress. But at least Alfie the dog is showing me the way forwards. He has no agenda. Simply being with him is enough. Thanks to him I’m rediscovering the exhilaration that comes from carving out these small-scale freedoms, and it’s helping me charge up my creative drive. I feel healthier these days. I feel better balanced and more engaged with the world around me. Oh, and those writing projects I’ve been working on all this year? They’re starting to move on nicely. Not bad for a pup whose favourite pastime is burying my pants in odd corners of the garden.
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