The dream continues...

From loch district to Lake District...

Last week, I wrote about fulfilling my dream of visiting the Isle of Lewis & Harris in the Outer Hebrides (spoiler: I never made it to Harris) and how I feel I fulfilled that dream, albeit in a way I hadn’t planned and in a way that could be considered incomplete.

We sold our house to live on a narrow boat in June 2021 and by doing so, the changes in my life have been (and still are) so much more far reaching than just changing where and how I live in a practical sense.

The last 5 years have been an exploration of the UK canal system, explorations of places I love to return to by van (we bought it in March 2025), places I’ve never visited before, but most importantly an exploration of my own thoughts, beliefs and behaviour patterns.

At certain times in our lives, routine and order is necessary. We need to get to work on time and fulfill the roles expected of us; children need to be taken care of, cars need to be kept roadworthy, houses need to be maintained, the weekly shopping needs to be done…you know the drill.

I think it’s true to say that many women in later life cast a glance back to see where they’ve come from, but more importantly, to see where they’re going; even more importantly, whether they want to go there at all or whether they need to change direction.

Our brains love predictability, behaviour patterns become who we think we are and we may never think to question why we do what we do. We can literally go to our graves never knowing that we can change things, mix things up a bit or live our lives a completely different way.

Clearly, some people may never feel the need to question anything about who they are or how they live, but I know I wanted to live these later years of my life, not just drift through them doing what I’d always done and believing how I’d lived was who I was.

My long practiced patterns include personal discipline (aka control), perfectionism, fawning (people pleasing), pursuit of achievement, busyness, being overly concerned of other people’s opinions, detachment from my own feelings, doing what I felt I should do, rather than what I’d like to do….quite a list, but a list I feel many people will identify with.

I’d planned to travel around the Outer Hebrides for 4/5 weeks, so to feel that I was ready to move on after two and a half weeks felt uncomfortable, as if I was ‘giving up’ somehow and ‘giving up’ to me meant weakness.

Letting go of beliefs and behaviors doesn’t happen quickly and in my experience, always feels physically uncomfortable; changing direction unexpectedly can feel like reneging on a promise, lacking staying power, having no motivation/determination….and on and on….

Despite my discomfort, I followed my gut and we chose to leave Lewis earlier than planned and come to the Lake District for a while. The month of May has to be one of the most beautiful times to be here. Everywhere looks absolutely stunning; the pathways are lined with wild garlic, the woods are full of bluebells, the clouds cast constantly changing shadows over the fells and there are rhododendron bushes of the most astonishing colour in full flower. We’ve been here many times before, but never in May and because this trip wasn’t planned, the pleasure in being in this beautiful landscape at this time of year feels like a gift.

In the past, because of my aforementioned beliefs and behaviours, I’d have ‘needed’ to climb the peaks all around me; achievement overrode choice…in fact, choice wasn’t on my radar. There was a mountain, therefore, it must be conquered. I now have compassion for the part of me that felt the only way she could feel/be safe was to be strong, to achieve, to push harder, to never give up. Of course, living with those patterns and within strict parameters doesn’t allow space for joy, for spontaneity, for change, for choice, for rest, for ‘being’.

Now, my plans are looser; it’s a joy to walk through a forest and look at the natural sculpture of a fallen tree, a tree which appears (in part) to be dying, but also shows signs of being a habitat for new life. It’s a pleasure to stand in the centre of a rocky ascending path to listen to the birds singing and to be astonished by the way the light shines through the leaves, casting an almost fluorescent glow.

Walking in nature has always been an intrinsic and essential part of my life and removing the ‘need’ to achieve any goals allows me to focus more on what’s around me, rather than plodding up hills. Having said that, I’m happy to climb the fells for pleasure when I choose to, but not because I feel some sort of internal obligation to do so. Anyone who has a passion for walking would be hard pressed to look at the Lakeland fells and not want to stride out and get to the top of Scafell, Skiddaw, Haystacks, The Old Man of Coniston or Blencathra.

Another benefit of a more spontaneous approach to life/travel/everything is that we’ve been able to be here when the Bluebird K7 festival is on.

https://bluebirdk7thefestival.co.uk/

Our plans for the last 4/5 weeks have turned out differently than we expected, but each day has been a lesson in learning to let go of what’s gone before and to relax any self imposed parameters I might have.

I’m learning that to experience joy, I have to be open to feeling the whole continuum of human emotion; it isn’t possible to feel joy without grief, happiness without sadness, safety without uncertainty. By exercising control, by being rigid, by resisting change, I can be sure what’s happening, but it’s a sterile kind of life, not a life of colour, potential and possibility.

Our road trip comes to an end in a couple of days and it’s been great. Living in the van for almost 5 weeks has been easy; despite the small space, we’ve been cosy and comfortable, although I’m looking forward to a very long shower, rather than a more efficient and water conserving one!

We’ve no specific plans over the summer, other than to pootle around by boat and van, depending on the water levels in the canal; when anyone asks us ‘what are your plans’, our reply is ‘the plan is no plan’.

Thank you to anyone reading my writing; I’m truly grateful that you’re here. Many people say to me/us that we’re ‘living the dream’ and although our life isn’t everyone’s dream, we love it.

We met a lady out walking the other day (younger than us) who told us her husband had had a brain hemorrhage 9 months ago and was now using a wheelchair and unable to walk the fells as he had done for years. We’re grateful for our good health and that we both enjoy pursuing similar hobbies and pursuits and whilst we’re able to do what we do, we’ll keep doing it. Nothing in life is guaranteed, so I’ll keep letting go, keep learning and most importantly, keep walking :-)

NB: I love to read about the places, landscapes and people related to wherever we are and I can highly recommend these books:

The Soap Man: Lewis, Harris and Lord Leverhulme by Roger Hutchinson

Beatrix Potter: A Life in Nature by Linda Lear.

With love,

Karen x