I have a lot of habits. To the point almost of qualifying as obsessive.  My routine daily behaviour though tolerable is predictable.  It always has been so even though the sinews of convention have altered over the decades as I progressed from childhood to adolescence to working then retirement. Each period of my life had its obvious exigencies and repetitions. The closest I come to being different (that is, estranged from my normalcy) is when occasionally I research the library of Apple Music (to which we have a gratifying monthly subscription).  It speaks to the difficulty surrounding the dare to be different that even though we have an immense collection of music from which to choose – and to do so fleetingly if so desired – I inevitably stick to what I am accustomed after years of evolution, training and social influence and prejudice.

Yet amazingly almost every time I dare to be different in my choice of music, I end discovering something which is not only new and different but which is more often than not appealing and uniquely stimulating.

Amapiano, a South African music genre taken from the Zulu word for “pianos”, is a subgenre of kwaito and house music that emerged in South Africa in the mid-2010s. It is a hybrid of deep house, gqom, jazz, soul and lounge music characterized by synths and wide, percussive basslines.

What I am about to say may sound to be a complete digression but when I was at law school I distinctly recall being overwhelmed by what is called comparative law. The surprise wasn’t only that (as I might have fairly reasoned) so many laws of different countries are the same and derive from very similar roots; rather it was that there are so many different laws each with their own flavour. For me it is mildly akin to the general universality of music and the specific differences of composition and rendition.

But music of whatever description or character is inevitably marked by the quip, “You’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all!” That particular element reminds us forcibly that no matter how unique or distinguished anything is, it will likely repeat in its library. This of course is because the moment one attaches to a particular foundation, recurrence is commonplace. Repetition is the reason we can identify things, good and bad, the symptoms of medical illness, the marks of purity of silver and gold.

In the result the power of being different isn’t that you will escape a world of identity, it is simply the discovery of doing so.

Lately I have embarked upon a journey of difference.  What however makes this particular expedition unusual is that I am attempting to preserve similarity, not manifest difference. The reason this speaks to uniqueness is that I am intent upon unfolding the seams of unseen strength which are active below the surface of where I am now (or at least within my immediate or nearby area). As much as I have relished the past decade of constant travel throughout certain of the southern states of the United States of America; as much as I enjoyed the trips to Riviera Maya, the Caribbean, Puerto Vallarta, Sardegna and Montepulciano; as much as I acknowledge the allure of China, India, Russia and the South Pacific Ocean (where we have close friends who have invited us to visit), I find I am on the precipice of a decision to confront life not just by its novelty but also by its unseen and unquenched depth.

I confess there is an element of fear surrounding the enterprise.  It would be much less transparent to commit to variety in the name of enlargement and adventure. But I am forever haunted by the quip, “There ain’t no ship to take you away from yourself; you travel the suburbs of your own mind.”  Rather than risk being caught by that unflattering admission and realization, I would at this time prefer instead to approach the greater challenge in my life; namely, to adopt a more domestic additive. No doubt it is significant that the attraction is stimulated by the synthesis of friends and family with whom commensurately we seek to re-engage or extend our current relationships. Nor can I deny the feature of dormancy which at my advancing age and immobility is a palpable component of my being and expression. While it may not equate to physical suspension, things are unquestionably slowing down. Balancing this contaminant is the thrust of local discovery and the shared outlook of friends who are more adventurously plotting the future.