A beacon, a signal, a warning, a beckoning In thick clouds of fog, through sheets of pounding rain High above the thrashing tide, I stand tall Flashing, beaming, screaming at the ships; I see you, please see me, sail carefully, be safe Little boat, you're a mere speck in the vast wild ocean, I’m here to guide you home. -the lighthouse I have lots of fragmented thoughts to share this month, there’s no real theme but i think thats okay. I’m on the Gold Coast right now, I’ve been here a while as its sunny, I can walk for hours along lovely sandy beaches and frankly, I dont know where to go next so i’m not going anywhere yet. I headed up the coast from Sydney, making a detour inland to the Blue Mountains, a place of such beauty it took my breath away. The mountain air was a nice change and I enjoyed a few days of hiking trails that led down thousands of stairs, to the shaded valley floor carpeted in vibrant green ferns (I audibly gasped at the sheer wonder of it) before climbing back up again to walk amongst the treetops past waterfalls and panoramic vistas. Part of the magic of the Blue Mountains was down to my lack of expectation, they took me totally by surprise. I pushed onwards back to the Coast, where I walked along many beaches, visited a Koala sanctuary, spotted lizards, dolphins, an echidna and another snake, read a lot of books and did a lot of thinking. Now i'm here. These past 2 months-ish (has it been almost that long since I left Freo??!) could have been great buttt, I’ve been a nervous wreck thinking that I was wasting time and needed to DO something, figure it all out, have a plan etcc.. I was doing something.; exploring, walking, running reading, is that not something? I spent months working hard and saving money so why do I constantly seek validation and feel like I have to justify myself and how I live? As a society, we undoubtedly celebrate stress and hard work, it’s worn like a badge of honour. There’s such negative energy and stigma around enjoyment. We have to first endure hardship before we can be happy and free. We must always be working towards The Big Something. Becoming better, thinner, smarter, richer versions of ourselves. Be more is the message screaming at us from all angles. It’s loud. It echoes. It’s not true. Yet not being in the rat race, it’s hard not to feel like i’m falling far behind everyone else in the big game of life. But, here’s the thing, you only fall behind if you enter the race in the first place. You cant lose a race you never agreed to run. Right? Travel has defined me for most of my adult life. No matter my failures, I always have my adventures. Travelling consumed my mind for years, the excitement of planning a trip was the greatest thrill. That didn’t last. Years passed and still I didn’t know my place, I hadnt found deep meaningful answers i so desperately hoped for. I was no longer on a gap year. I tried to stay put, figure out a plan but i never could. My only solution was to travel again, it's all i knew. The sense of adventure diminished, replaced by expectation and desperation. Surely I must figure something out this time? I must, I cant keep drifiting around the world. My thoughts turned darker, scathingly critical of my every move. The joy was gone, I decided my travels were self-indulgent. Pointless. Selfish. A waste of time. I can remember a day when this thought hit me, I was in Flores, Guatemala, I’d just made a huge detour back north from the Caribbean coast to visit the Tikal ruins. I’m not really a ruins kinda person, I appreciate the incredible work that went into these structures but it’s not my thing. Nevertheless, I felt that i had to go so I did but it didn’t really do much for me and suddenly the whole thing felt futile and empty. What was I doing? Everyone around seemed older, smarter, they had plans and lives to return to. Me? I had no idea why i was in Guatemala; besides a brief conversation with an Australian girl in the Himalayas that planted Central America on my map. That was it. Was i really so impressionable that vague ideas alone would launch me into a new continent? Apparently, yes. Fast forward a 8 years and I still feel like everyone has it together except me. Do we all feel like that a bit? My anxiety issue truly became the monster it is when I felt like I didn’t deserve my life, i hadn’t earned the right to travel or enjoy myself. I felt judged and guilty and ashamed and like I was no one and nothing but a selfish, unmotivated failure. I couldn't even travel right, I missed out places, didn't go away long enough, didn't meet enough local people, didn't do any of it right. Truthfully, my travels were not always full of joy and easy breezy fun-filled days. Being so alone with nothing but my thoughts often feels like a form of torture actually. Even thinking that, I feel like im not allowed to say it because i'm in Australia and must be having a big old holiday. Sometimes yes, but try sleeping in an 8 bed dorm with someone snoring, 2 leaving noisily in the middle of the night and another with a serious BO problem. Or the girls that have lived in the dorm for a year and have taken over the whole room,leaving no space for me and making it quite clear that I have invaded their territory. I won’t even mention the state of some kitchens. Long days to fill with no company and nagging money worries in the back of my mind. My running shoes bursting at the seams, not knowing where to go next, where i’ll sleep, will i run out of money, long cramped bus journeys, feeling guilty about not enjoying the “holiday”. Not very relaxing. Experiences, yes, but my experience of travelling has rarely been what most people expect. These are trivial worries for a lot of people but they're enough to .
In this vortex of panic and self loathing, I began to imagine that society as a whole, viewed my life and me as a mess, a joke. That projected back at me, glaring like the harsh sun in your eyes that leaves you squinting and unsure what you actually see anymore. Or who you are anymore, If the life i'd lived had been so insignificant and pointless then I surely was too. To make myself smaller, less offensive, I told myself and the world that i didn’t want anything, I wasn’t worth it. I packed myself into a tiny box and hid in the corner, hoping to be forgotten and discovered at the same time. Catching glimpses of myself I can see guilt and shame written all over my face and i carry that with me. People likely see it too and wonder why i look so haunted, maybe I chase away good things because i seem so ashamed and uncomfotable with myself. Why is it tht in my mind, no matter what, it always transpires that I am wrong. Everyone else must be right and I’m not. I hear judgement that isn’t there and compare what needn’t be. I wish i could stop. Life isn't about being right or wrong anyway, it's purely choices and reactions. No one is actually judging except for ourselves. These deep rooted thoughts sprout and grow when I have so much freetime and dont know how to fill it. Nothing feels safe or right and the days are long and lonely. Not always, but I needed to let these thoughts out because they are there and maybe i can feel a little lighter now. I think i do. My retaliation, my sanctuary lies in the smallest of allies; I run or workout every morning, I eat with the same fork, I have a banana with breakfast, I write my blog once a month, keep a journal and allow myself to fall into daydreams. These little routines keep me grounded in a life that is messy and uncertain. I’m glad to have them. They smooth out the harsh edges of lifes jagged expectations. My expectations. It's time to set new ones and let myself be free.
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LittlebirdJenna. Free spirit, flower enthusiast, seeker of truths. Archives
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