Mercurial Retrogracious

Well, dear ones, it has been almost 2 months to the day that you’ve had the privilege of reading my silver-toned words and hear the euphonious truths of my life, splattered onto this blog.

I wonder if you wonder why it has been so long? If you have filled the absence of me with made up pictures of the joy and freedom that is traveling the world? Sure that I have been so consumed enjoying the moments of discovery, too busy to check in and relay my findings.

The truth of the matter is after I left Asia I fell into a deep, dark pit of sadness. I miss it. I had no idea I would miss it so much, or miss it at all, really. After all it was 3 months of almost non-stop humid sweating, not knowing what the hell was happening around me, being in a constant state of unknown with a slight tinge of un-comfort, and always, I mean ALWAYS wondering if the next toilet I was going to use was going to be a western one or a hole in the ground.

It was nice to land in New Zealand, with fresh air and clean – everything. The people were friendlier and obviously communication is not an issue here as we all are native English speakers. However, I missed the challenge. Now I’m settled in Wellington, and looking for full time work. I’ve been here a few weeks and have only managed to work a few shifts for a temp agency where I do catering and random hospitality gigs. It’s been nice especially since I’ve found myself in the most random situations – from working a rugby game to a senior prom.

Yet, whilst being in this brisk winter aired, sea side town, I’ve felt a little incomplete. I’m not entirely sure why, it has a little to do with the fact NZ is “normal” the way Australia was – very similar to the U.S. and too comfortable for those of us looking for something out of the ordinary.

We’re all in the midst of a mercurial retrograde, sponsored by our sun’s closest neighbour… and that got me thinking. When Mercury goes retrograde, everything gets a little tougher. Mercury is our ruler of communication therefore for some of us, hit harder than others during these 8 week cycles, where everything from forming thoughts to the use of electronics is just plain difficult. I like to blame my stand still on our 1st planet, however I believe there is something in addition to the solar system at fault.

I’ve been a citizen of the world for the past 17 months and have enjoyed all of it, but there is still a part of me held back. Currently I am living at a hostel in the cute little capitol of this cute little nation’s set of islands. Everyone here is kind of in the same boat – we are all travellers, and we all are looking for more money to continue the fad. However, this country is expensive and everything costs something, so there are countless nights of hostellers sitting around the kitchen area waiting for something to do, or the money to do it with.

It’s counter intuitive really, when to most it seems those of us here living our dreams and our lives abroad are rutted in the same obstacles those at “home” are. When your life is a cycle of working to pay for the things you like. It goes around the cycle the same way of a clock where money is 1 o’clock and that’s where it all begins.

However, before we get to the action of 1 o’clock, we must strike 12, the impetus for action. For most of us we believe money as impetus because when we get that money and can afford to do the things we want to do, that’s when the living begins and that’s where we are set free. Yet that is just not the case. The impetus is the will and want to do something.

Two years ago when I first decided, even imagined, going to Australia for a year, I had no money to my name. Yet within 6 months of setting my desire to go, I was gone. I had managed to save up more in those 6 months than in the 2 years prior. Because 2 years prior to June 2013, I had no goal, I was floating.

Travel is floating really. Where we have cast our rafts out into the open waters and hope to find land, a new land. So what is my problem? See, while out on the water we are not really in control. Water is not a constant. Water is so amenable, I’m not even sure Poseidon could control every ounce of the whole.

And neither can I.

And if there is one thing that I’ve learned from all the boat rides I had in Asia – the long creeky boat ferries, to the big bad speed boat commuters, to the rained out and shakey cruise boats – it is that we certainly can not stop the waves, just merely accept them, and sometimes close your eyes and hope for the best. So whilst sat in the hostel waiting for the full time job of my travelling dreams to appear and recruit me, I just wait for the interlude to conclude. I don’t live each moment to the fullest, I feel stuck and I wait.

I was the same at home. Some nights were great out on the town in Chicago, with some great friends and some nights were me at home alone, with netflix and delivery. Both instances are ones that hault my comfort of security and make me re-think my game plan. However, as is showcased here tonight clearly that is not a feeling that identifies solely with one situation or environment. It is a multi-faceted existence that is in constant rotation. Like waves.

So what makes things change? What makes things different? What makes things worth while? I believe, for me, right now the difference that I need and am lacking is the perspective of gratitude. I have a major deficit of gratitude – to myself, to the world, to all those friends and family who have been relentless sources of support and encouragement.

I have always been the type of person that can recall even the worst of situations with a sense of humor. Had you asked me 8 years ago what I felt like while being evicted from my apartment and being homeless for 6 weeks of winter in NYC and I would have crawled into a ball and started crying. However, I can recall that time now with a certain amount a humour and a hell of a lot more humbled, un-ostentatious, relieved, sense of gratitude.

I mean, I cringe to think what a no brained child I was who threw herself into the unaffectionate arms of New York City at my impressionable age of 21. I mean for fucks sake I was still a caterpillar. I used and abused everything I could get my hands on from drugs and alcohol to the kindness of my brother’s heart and wallet and made him responsible for me in a lot of ways which weren’t fair.

I struggle with allowing myself to be happy and to feel good when good things happen. My natural response is that I don’t deserve something or that I lucked out. And I do believe that I am a lucky girl. But why, why is it ok to tell myself or anyone else that they are not deserving of something? Sure, I get jealous of others. If there’s a trust fund kid travelling on daddy’s dime why do they not deserve to see and experience the world? It’s none of my business.

I feel sometimes caged by the norms of society and how we feel we need to segregate our desires. So to say I can have the travel part of my dream, but surely I can’t enjoy it. That wouldn’t be fair! To who? Who am I playing this made-up game with where I need to be fair? Not like when I leached off my brother for 6 months +, that wasn’t fair to him. I mean when it comes down to choosing not to do something or experience something fully in fear that someone else will feel bad about your success. Life wouldn’t want me to reel myself in to martyr part of my joy and happiness in fear of someone else cheating off my test of life and comparing answers.

Life didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, yesterday. It hasn’t given us all the same tests. We can’t possibly cheat off each other, so why are we so consumed with keeping tabs on others? I mean, this isn’t a moral plea. This is more a spiritual one. To live ones own truth. Alas, my truth is not yours necessarily either.This I’ve learned. In writing classes they always use the example ‘Hitler didn’t see himself as the bad guy.’

Shit, I’m digressing. Why is Hitler a part of this now?

This is my testament to life. Right now. I have been falling deeper and deeper into the pit of despair (with no sign of the albino to keep me company) and now I’m stopping it.  My hands are on the sides of the well and I refuse to go deeper, because this was a mistake. I shouldn’t be falling down this well, I should be barefoot on the grass above, soaking in the sun and the sweet smell of the freshly bloomed offerings from our mother, nature.

I got all stressed out because I am moving on in 7 weeks and NEED to have a comfy savings to live my plan. However, right now with out a full time job I don’t see that happening. Similar to when I got my eviction notice on Flushing Ave and had nowhere to go… except downstairs to my best friend’s house, where he instantly opened his doors to me as long as he could. Amazing. He had my back, when I didn’t have my back. That’s grace. And I still hold the gratitude for that in my heart.

Down, but not out. The anthem of the underdogs – DOWN, but NOT OUT!

Where there is a will, there is a way. It’s 12 o’clock. It’s time. I don’t know the way, but I certainly have the will. Heart and soul as impetus. As always, ranty blogs offer me the insight into my own self to realize a game changer when I write one. This is certainly one.

How does one go from living a life half in the shadows, worried about the light to jumping dead center? Well, I have no idea. I imagine it’s a process worth pursuing and I can guarantee it begins with gratitude for what has already manifested.

$20 manifested itself into my bank account today due to an error which was corrected today. So I spent $8 on a coffee and cronut and shame ate the cronut on a bench in the wind and rain. I will never again shame eat a cronut. You mark my words, you. This girl is pride eating cronuts from here on out because I deserve a cronut, you deserve a cronut, WE ALL DESERVE A CRONUT!!!!!

Go get yourself a cronut.