It’s been quite some months since I’ve made an entry to this blog, for reasons I hadn’t nearly fathomed to consider. To pack up life as it was and channel extended months of energy and emotions into a constant highlight reel of beautiful experiences and new friendships with what seemed an insatiable freedom, is something I will always carry and feel fortunate to have done.
From the scenic coastline and rich history of Narragansett Bay, to the steep and picturesque inclines of the Ortler Alps, the remote and welcoming villages of the High Accursed Mountains, lazy days spent soaking up the warmth of the Mediterranean; the vibrancy, contrast and unique cultures of the Andes, – to the scorched dunes of the Atacama. With so, so much more in between. Those months were a whirlwind of impulsive adventure. Rickety bus rides and an infinite of foreign currencies, languages learned, loosely framed sentences and a library of gestures. A curiosity to understand better and to explore deeper. Stories shared and memories made. Blissful chaos. It was a constant growth that had my heart brimming with fulfillment. Each day, I lived wholeheartedly.
… And just like that, like a distant memory, the wheels of routine are back in motion. A lease, a new job, a Melbourne winter. Feelings of uncertainty, misunderstanding and a yearning to go back and do it all again. A want to colour outside the lines for a while longer and to unearth the gems and many joys which travel brings.
These words – ‘just because someone carries it well, doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy’ speak to me in volumes.
Coming home has had its moments. Whilst it’s been beautiful to once more meet with familiar faces, the transition that’s been a riding of a constant high to again experience routine as it was, has brought its challenges. From having time on our side everyday, to orchestrate a series of worldly adventures and to live simply; to a shifting of interests and ideals to make way for the 9-5 has been hard-hitting. In the months of absence, life goes on, things happen and the world spins. And sometimes, ‘picking up where you left off’ isn’t nearly as it seems. For me, finding my place once more within this mix of chaos and opportunity, as well my own expectations, whilst striving to mold oneself into the stereotype of what I ‘should’ be doing, is actually, just hard.
In writing this, I feel incredibly conflicted, as well cautious to not place myself at the peril of others’ judgment because for some, it might seem that through the eyes of the beholder, my free-spirited and ‘decisions on a whim’ approach has somehow paved a well-curated and ‘together’ existence. And for the most part this is true. Life is good. Though off the back of wanderlusting our way around the world so to speak, there is an ache – something is missing. And perhaps my struggle, is trying to pinpoint exactly what this is. These words – ‘just because someone carries it well, doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy’ speak to me in volumes.
A special somebody previously told me that that I chase rainbows, – always in search of the pots of gold beneath the soft rays of colour on the horizon.
There’s no question, I’ve got the travel bug. It’s influenced who I am as a person and has a strong hold on my senses. Quite simply, the more I see, the more I want to see. To learn from others and to experience the many interesting and wonderful lifestyles and cultures of afar, everyday. This of course is met with the need to secure a ‘good job’ to afford such luxuries. Days spent at a desk alongside a team that has my back, has so far amassed the lucrative dollar, yet once more has unleashed the asking of permission to do the things that I enjoy most, and three months of monotonous routine. ‘You can’t have it all’ they said…
A special somebody previously told me that that I chase rainbows, – always in search of the pots of gold beneath the soft rays of colour on the horizon. And I do. I find it, raise the bar that much higher and seek again. I’m creative, curious, say ‘yes’ too often, get bored easily and I ask far too many questions. Perhaps my expectations of what is possible is unrealistic? Or, ‘my possible’ is not conducive to the interests and efforts of others’, and that creates challenges? Perhaps my ideal of ‘having it all’ is not as traditionalist and straight forward as some, and life would be easier if it were?