by Branwen Smith

Created on: February 15, 2007   Last Updated: April 17, 2007

Commuting is an exercise in avoiding communication and building ill-feeling towards fellow human beings.

It is a self-destructive, soul destroying aspect of modern life, that I put myself through for several years. Daily I'd sit in traffic, increasingly stressed as I became increasingly late. I became angry and judgemental towards other drivers - people who I had never met and who had done nothing worse than not accelerating fast enough for a green light in my opinion.

Once a week I would sit through a 4 hour round trip on the train - or in truth I usually stood because it was so crowded - a long metal tube packed with people who all had one thing in common - they did not like the situation they were in but they were doing anything about it. Week after week I'd line up on the platform beside the same miserable, stoney faces, and the saddest thing was that even though so many of us must have recognised each other, none of us ever managed to even catch each other's eyes, let alone say 'hello'.

I'm one of the lucky ones - I was brought up on a Scottish island, and was very aware that there was an alternative way to live. It didn't take me long to call it a day and turn my commute into a 15 minute drive beside a Scottish loch, with only a few sheep to contend with.

People put themselves through commuting because of fear - they are too scared to leave their well-paid careers which they have often trained hard for and really enjoy. All it takes though is a bit of imagination, lateral thinking and some courage and you can make a change that will benefit both you and your family.

Surprisingly, I have much faster success finding flute pupils in the countryside. There are fewer teachers as competition, and children don't have as hectic a timetable of activities as city kids, so are keener to start music lessons.

My mother is a successful batik artist, sending her work all over the world - not from a London gallery, but from her studio and gallery in the Scottish Hebrides, where she she draws inspiration from her beautiful surroundings. (check out her work on www.islatran.demon.co.uk)

My father works as a technical translator - utilising email in an office upstairs from my mother's gallery.

Over three decades ago my parents were two of the stoney faced commuters on the train to London - they shudder at the thought now. Because they had it in them to leave the rat race, not only am I a country girl with a career, but my sister is also doing really well working and training in an accountant's office on the same Scottish island. Every day we hear the traffic reports on the radio and laugh.

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