Life and Death

Our recent trip to London brought back memories of an earlier visit. In my late 20's, I'd been living in India and Europe, working in various jobs and backpacking. A need to renew my vanishing travelling fund prompted me to head for England and the promise of work.

Megan outside Charing Cross

After working some months in a psychiatric hospital in Aylesbury, I secured an interesting but very poorly paid job. Eugene Himmler was a psychoanalyst who was also a survivor of Hitler's extermination camps. He had died, and his followers wanted to continue his work post-humously. They wanted a psychologist who would listen to hours of taped interviews with Holocaust survivors and analyse their contents. (This was called 'protocol analysis').

Streets of Catford, picking up our new bikes

They could only offer GBP 300 to do this, but they sweetened the deal by offering me use of their Swiss Cottage cottage. I accepted, and in fulfilling the job, discovered that Anna Freud (Sigmund's daughter) lived around the corner, and the Tavistock clinic was just down the street. All these memories from my youth, coupled with our impending departure from our safe haven of Fethiye prompted me to re-consider some of Freud's basic idea's.

Meeting Sue, Megan's cousin in Trafalgar Square

Freud believed that there were two instinctual forces active in our psyche, the force driving us towards life, and the force impelling us towards death, dissolving and decaying us. He named the life force Eros, and it was our creative drive, impelling us to expand, grow and try new expressions of living. He named the death force Thanatos. It's the impulse to stay the same, to stay safe, to shrink within our known boundaries. The end result of Thanatos is literally 'rigour mortis', the inability to move or change.

Chris and Barb, two friends we caught up with

Now, let me try to get to the point of this meandering diatribe. Lots of people we know, and several of our good friends, have commented that they think we are 'brave' or 'courageous' to head off sailing half-way around the world. Using Freud's terms, we are full of Eros, the life force impelling us to expand our horizon's and grow to the maximum. This just doesn't feel right to me. I don't feel 'brave or courageous'. In fact, I feel both of Freud's impulses, and the point where they balance.

St. Martin's in the Field

We're currently planning our departure from Fethiye, our little home away from home in Turkey. Fethiye now represents safety and security for us, it's high in Thanatos. While planning our impending visit to Cypress, Lebanon, Israel and Egypt; reading the pilots and government risk warnings, I can feel an increased 'frisson' in the air, and well as higher levels of stress and anxiety. I'm clearly heading into Eros territory, the challenge of the new and unknown.

The cross built at Charing - nice Thanatos memorial

Each of us has a set-point where these instincts balance out, the desire for security versus the challenge of the new. We have a 'comfort point' where we can tolerate and integrate these opposing forces. When Chris (above photo) mentioned that he thought we were brave, I think my reply was 'No, I just focus on taking the next step'. This lets me assimilate a smaller chunk of the new, and doesn't threaten my sense of security and safety by too big a margin.

Megan on the Tube

Nevertheless, I can feel the winds of change a'blowing and there is a slight shiver in the air. What will it be like, not having a permanent home for Pavlov? When we leave Fethiye, we will be 'free agents', at least until we take out another marina contract. We'll be sailing in more challenging waters, with overnight sails, watch-keeping and hostile government officials to deal with. Lebanon might get a bit iffy, and Egypt, with all its corruption and horrors, may need to be visited if we are to avoid a 5 day passage to Crete. How will we manage and cope?

Well, maybe just 'One step at a time...'