Byron Bay, here I come.
"Look, I don't want to wax philosophic, but I will say that if you're alive you've got to flap your arms and legs, you've got to jump around a lot, for life is the very opposite of death, and therefore you must at very least think noisy and colorfully."
-Mel Brooks
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
The Earliest New Year
10 years ago, I was 14.
2010, you already intimidate me.
But I will not be intimidated.
Instead, I will resolve-
To be more active;
To be more present;
To look around and notice the little things;
To worry about those little things less;
To use less and give more;
And finally,
To enjoy.
Happy New Year.
2010, you already intimidate me.
But I will not be intimidated.
Instead, I will resolve-
To be more active;
To be more present;
To look around and notice the little things;
To worry about those little things less;
To use less and give more;
And finally,
To enjoy.
Happy New Year.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
A Year and a Month and a Half's Worth of Reflections
It just occurred to me today (the 26th of December) that I've been in transit in some way or another for the past 6 weeks. And also for the past 12 months.
Along with that realization came a bunch of different feelings:
First, I felt accomplished.
Then, I felt impressive.
Then, I felt 24.
Then, I felt excited.
And then, I felt pangs of homesickness and doubt.
These are pangs I'm familiar with.
I've gone away for a while before, I've been in new and strange places.
I know where to put that doubt.
I brought cards (the USS Enterprise is always nearby, Bridey) and pictures (that 20th birthday present is still the best I've ever gotten, Abby) to make home seem less far away;
I sporadically Skype with Grampa and he tells me jokes that come through so clearly it's like we're sitting next to each other at the diner.
And then, I felt so, so fortunate.
But somehow, I can't seem to wrap my head around this experience I'm having.
Lately, I'm not as present as I'd planned to be.
I'm not as aware as I'd hoped.
It's as if this trip, this adventure, this whatever you want to call it, is happening to me as opposed to something I've made happen.
I keep having to take a step back and remind myself that I'm the main character here, that I'm not just reading this story.
It's as if my perspective inverted as soon as I got down under.
Part of me (60%) doesn't want to make any plans.
That part wants to just let things happen as they happen, go so entirely with the flow that I become a fly on the wall of the world.
"After all, that was the original idea," that part reminds me.
"Quit the 9-5, see the world, figure it out as it you go. So, go."
But now that I'm here and going with the flow, that other part of me is starting to wonder whether it might make for a better all-around experience if I thought ahead just a bit.
"Maybe map out the year and figure out some sort of route, so that you have things to plan for and look forward to," says the other part of me.
"Maybe it's a good idea to book some things and print out some reference numbers, just for old time's sake?"
It sounds ridiculous, but all this freedom is paralyzing.
It's overwhelming.
It's like being at the beach and not having a towel.
But then, who really needs a towel?
(By which I mean, I've been so programmed for so long to have a plan that now that I don't have a plan, I don't know how to proceed. But then, who really needs a plan?)
I went with Amanda (Tom's cousin Justin's wife...phew) to her yoga class a few weeks back, and upon re-reading this post, I think I've solved all of my problems. Wait for it, this isn't a tangent.
The yoga instructor was this super chilled out, lean-not-skinny Australian surfer who philosophized and lectured as we stretched and sweated through the various poses he called out.
At first, I couldn't get into the whole thing.
I like to think I'm open minded but telling me to "put all my thoughts in a proverbial paper bag" and then to "take that bag, and physically throw it away" and then watch each of us, one at a time, literally throw out a pretend paper bag is just a bit much, even for me.
And I went to camp.
But as the class went on, the instructor made some very good points.
Most of them were about being as mindful as possible, so as to keep things in constant balance and perspective.
One of the things he said is resonating with me now:
He was telling a story about one of his students who was distressed and seemingly unable to let things go. Something about work being stressful and a divorce, you know the story.
So the instructor tells the guy first to put his issues in that paper bag.
Doesn't work. Shocker.
Then the instructor says, "You know how to make things better? It's easy. It's so simple. You just stop worrying. You just stop."
That's it. You just stop. Once you free your mind up from worrying so much, you can pay attention to what actually matters, what's actually happening, what's actually in front of you.
Recap:
Life is good.
I'm half who I am and half who I'm dying to be.
I'm looking forward to 2010.
Along with that realization came a bunch of different feelings:
First, I felt accomplished.
Then, I felt impressive.
Then, I felt 24.
Then, I felt excited.
And then, I felt pangs of homesickness and doubt.
These are pangs I'm familiar with.
I've gone away for a while before, I've been in new and strange places.
I know where to put that doubt.
I brought cards (the USS Enterprise is always nearby, Bridey) and pictures (that 20th birthday present is still the best I've ever gotten, Abby) to make home seem less far away;
I sporadically Skype with Grampa and he tells me jokes that come through so clearly it's like we're sitting next to each other at the diner.
And then, I felt so, so fortunate.
But somehow, I can't seem to wrap my head around this experience I'm having.
Lately, I'm not as present as I'd planned to be.
I'm not as aware as I'd hoped.
It's as if this trip, this adventure, this whatever you want to call it, is happening to me as opposed to something I've made happen.
I keep having to take a step back and remind myself that I'm the main character here, that I'm not just reading this story.
It's as if my perspective inverted as soon as I got down under.
Part of me (60%) doesn't want to make any plans.
That part wants to just let things happen as they happen, go so entirely with the flow that I become a fly on the wall of the world.
"After all, that was the original idea," that part reminds me.
"Quit the 9-5, see the world, figure it out as it you go. So, go."
But now that I'm here and going with the flow, that other part of me is starting to wonder whether it might make for a better all-around experience if I thought ahead just a bit.
"Maybe map out the year and figure out some sort of route, so that you have things to plan for and look forward to," says the other part of me.
"Maybe it's a good idea to book some things and print out some reference numbers, just for old time's sake?"
It sounds ridiculous, but all this freedom is paralyzing.
It's overwhelming.
It's like being at the beach and not having a towel.
But then, who really needs a towel?
(By which I mean, I've been so programmed for so long to have a plan that now that I don't have a plan, I don't know how to proceed. But then, who really needs a plan?)
I went with Amanda (Tom's cousin Justin's wife...phew) to her yoga class a few weeks back, and upon re-reading this post, I think I've solved all of my problems. Wait for it, this isn't a tangent.
The yoga instructor was this super chilled out, lean-not-skinny Australian surfer who philosophized and lectured as we stretched and sweated through the various poses he called out.
At first, I couldn't get into the whole thing.
I like to think I'm open minded but telling me to "put all my thoughts in a proverbial paper bag" and then to "take that bag, and physically throw it away" and then watch each of us, one at a time, literally throw out a pretend paper bag is just a bit much, even for me.
And I went to camp.
But as the class went on, the instructor made some very good points.
Most of them were about being as mindful as possible, so as to keep things in constant balance and perspective.
One of the things he said is resonating with me now:
He was telling a story about one of his students who was distressed and seemingly unable to let things go. Something about work being stressful and a divorce, you know the story.
So the instructor tells the guy first to put his issues in that paper bag.
Doesn't work. Shocker.
Then the instructor says, "You know how to make things better? It's easy. It's so simple. You just stop worrying. You just stop."
That's it. You just stop. Once you free your mind up from worrying so much, you can pay attention to what actually matters, what's actually happening, what's actually in front of you.
Recap:
Life is good.
I'm half who I am and half who I'm dying to be.
I'm looking forward to 2010.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Sunburnt Christmas and Other Oxymoronic Things
I'm back in Sydney at Tom's cousins' place and have been since last Thursday.
I've done a lot of nothing and while I feel pretty useless, I didn't realize how much I needed a little down time since the dive.
Illustration: I went for a walk and after 20 minutes, I felt like I climbed Machu Picchu again.
That said.
I'm eager to get on the road again.
Having a comfy place to stay is amazing, but not necessarily what I came here for.
So, I'm onto Byron Bay after the new year.
[Of course, actual plans are not actually made yet]
I'm planning to Couchsurf my first two or three nights and then find a hostel to "live" at for a bit.
Though I haven't been there yet, I have a good feeling about Byron and I think I'll probably like to spend a good amount of time there.
And, since my hospital bills suck so much, I think getting a job sounds like a pretty good idea as well, so I'll be looking into that.
For a change of pace, I'll be bus-ing it there instead of flying---it's also about $100 cheaper and though it'll be a lot longer of a trip, I'm looking forward.
I love me some transcontinental road time.
It's amazing how the Real World can find you, even in Australia.
Happy Holidays/Happy New Year.
I've done a lot of nothing and while I feel pretty useless, I didn't realize how much I needed a little down time since the dive.
Illustration: I went for a walk and after 20 minutes, I felt like I climbed Machu Picchu again.
That said.
I'm eager to get on the road again.
Having a comfy place to stay is amazing, but not necessarily what I came here for.
So, I'm onto Byron Bay after the new year.
[Of course, actual plans are not actually made yet]
I'm planning to Couchsurf my first two or three nights and then find a hostel to "live" at for a bit.
Though I haven't been there yet, I have a good feeling about Byron and I think I'll probably like to spend a good amount of time there.
And, since my hospital bills suck so much, I think getting a job sounds like a pretty good idea as well, so I'll be looking into that.
For a change of pace, I'll be bus-ing it there instead of flying---it's also about $100 cheaper and though it'll be a lot longer of a trip, I'm looking forward.
I love me some transcontinental road time.
It's amazing how the Real World can find you, even in Australia.
Happy Holidays/Happy New Year.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Breathing Underwater and Other Things I'm Just Not Good At
Raise your hand if you know someone traveling in Cairns who went to the Tablelands!?
(raise your hands)
And who swam in Josephine and Milla Milla Falls!?
(raise your hands)
And who snorkeled in the Great Barrier Reef!?
(raise your hands)
And who dove in the Great Barrier Reef!?
(raise your hands)
And who almost fucking drowned and spent 3 nights in an Australian hospital with an oxygen mask and sporadic nebulizer on, because her lungs were full of sea water after her mouthpiece got knocked out when she was 9 meters underwater?!
(raise your hands)
I think that pretty much sums it up.
I'm alive, but I'm definitely less chipper than I was on Monday morning.
And don't you worry, I'm going over to the diving company in about 20 minutes to pick a bone the size of my hospital bill.
And at least my diving story gets me street cred, as opposed to all those skinny German tourists who just have stupid tan lines from their wet suits to prove they went anywhere.
For details, email. Otherwise I'll post more about my next move as I know more.
And for the record: FUCK YOU, BALD DIVING INSTRUCTOR. FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FUCKING ACCENT.
(5 hours later)
Ok. Building my bridge. Getting over it.
Getting to Sydney, to be exact.
And while that 3 night hospital stay wasn't necessarily an ideal use of my time, it did put things into perspective.
For example, I didn't have a stroke and now have to use a diaper and eat a soft diet.
I also didn't drown.
I also learned that if I have to, I can listen to nothing but Soul Coughing for 3 fucking days.
Little victories, I suppose.
(raise your hands)
And who swam in Josephine and Milla Milla Falls!?
(raise your hands)
And who snorkeled in the Great Barrier Reef!?
(raise your hands)
And who dove in the Great Barrier Reef!?
(raise your hands)
And who almost fucking drowned and spent 3 nights in an Australian hospital with an oxygen mask and sporadic nebulizer on, because her lungs were full of sea water after her mouthpiece got knocked out when she was 9 meters underwater?!
(raise your hands)
I think that pretty much sums it up.
I'm alive, but I'm definitely less chipper than I was on Monday morning.
And don't you worry, I'm going over to the diving company in about 20 minutes to pick a bone the size of my hospital bill.
And at least my diving story gets me street cred, as opposed to all those skinny German tourists who just have stupid tan lines from their wet suits to prove they went anywhere.
For details, email. Otherwise I'll post more about my next move as I know more.
And for the record: FUCK YOU, BALD DIVING INSTRUCTOR. FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FUCKING ACCENT.
(5 hours later)
Ok. Building my bridge. Getting over it.
Getting to Sydney, to be exact.
And while that 3 night hospital stay wasn't necessarily an ideal use of my time, it did put things into perspective.
For example, I didn't have a stroke and now have to use a diaper and eat a soft diet.
I also didn't drown.
I also learned that if I have to, I can listen to nothing but Soul Coughing for 3 fucking days.
Little victories, I suppose.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Heading North and Making a Sharp Right
Updated Route on the Abby Does Australia Tour:
Sydney>>>Melbourne>>>Cairns>>>Port Douglas>>>Daintree>>>Whitsunday Islands>>>Fraser Island>>>Byron Bay>>>Sydney(?)>>>...the rest of the country/continent with specific regard to The Great Ocean Road, Philip Island, the Yarra Valley, Tasmania, Adelaide, Uluru, Perth, Broome, New Zealand, _____________________
...
Also got a new camera. Let the improved documentation of amazing experiences begin.
Sydney>>>Melbourne>>>Cairns>>>Port Douglas>>>Daintree>>>Whitsunday Islands>>>Fraser Island>>>Byron Bay>>>Sydney(?)>>>...the rest of the country/continent with specific regard to The Great Ocean Road, Philip Island, the Yarra Valley, Tasmania, Adelaide, Uluru, Perth, Broome, New Zealand, _____________________
...
Also got a new camera. Let the improved documentation of amazing experiences begin.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
I Love Melbourne So Much, I May Just Marry It
Currently sitting on my beautiful friend Yael's amazingly comfy couch in her gorgeously decorated apartment in fantastic East St. Kilda, Melbourne, Victoria, AUS.
Enough adjectives? I didn't think so either.
THIS IS THE BEST PLACE EVER.
I don't know how to explain how incredible this trip has become, but I'll try.
I've been feeling a bit lost for the past few weeks, both in a good, liberating way and in a way that has made me rethink this whole decision.
As is most likely natural when one takes a big step towards the rest of her/his life, one begins to wonder and worry whether or not that step was a good idea.
Well, after spending all of 4 days in Melbourne, I can confidently say that this step was indeed the best idea I've ever had.
Like I mentioned in posts past, Sydney was a very nice place to be, both in terms of my accommodations (which I'm still appreciating, and will continue to do so) and in terms of my surroundings.
But something felt amiss.
Chances are, it was something in me more than it was something that wasn't in Sydney, but whatever the reason, things feel much more in place here than they did there, and as I have no roots whatsoever, it's a good feeling to have.
After 2 of the most hilarious and thoroughly interesting nights I've had in a good year*, Yael picked me up from my hostel this morning and we spent the day catching up and touring Melbourne.
The weather was gorgeous and we strolled Carlisle and Chapel Streets, found some sweet market, walked down to the beach and had an amazing meal at "Lentil As Anything" which is a non-profit vegan/vegetarian restuarant that provides food on a "pay as you wish" basis and is run by volunteers: www.lentilasanything.com
Needless to say, THAT WAS COOL.
Then we went back to Yael's apartment which is, for lack of a better word, Awesome.
I have my own room with my own huge bed and my own key.
After sharing a room with maybe the bitchiest French girl I've ever met, this improvement is immeasurable.
Yael and I had some wine and caught up and reconnected some more, which made me realize just how much I love meeting people and making friends.
[Sure, it sounds trite when you read it on a blog, but for me, one of the most important reasons to travel is to meet and learn from other people.
Something about Melbourne lends itself to that far more than Sydney did.]
Then we went to drinks with some of her friends, who were all also hilarious and interesting, and then we rented a movie* and put on sweats and noshed on fresh fruit.
This may be the best Sunday I've ever had, and I'm 24 years old.
*Since the hilarious and interesting details of my stays in the hostel are too many for this post, inquire within for more information. Just refresh me with the word "goon."
*For those who haven't seen the movie "66," please do so. It's hilarious. Caitlin Mae and Laurenhart, I'm looking at you.
Forgive me if this rambling is too cheesy, but as my favorite author Kurt Vonnegut's favorite uncle Alex once said, "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is."
Plans are still very much unmade for the future (ie: the next 2 weeks and beyond) but I'll keep you all posted.
Enough adjectives? I didn't think so either.
THIS IS THE BEST PLACE EVER.
I don't know how to explain how incredible this trip has become, but I'll try.
I've been feeling a bit lost for the past few weeks, both in a good, liberating way and in a way that has made me rethink this whole decision.
As is most likely natural when one takes a big step towards the rest of her/his life, one begins to wonder and worry whether or not that step was a good idea.
Well, after spending all of 4 days in Melbourne, I can confidently say that this step was indeed the best idea I've ever had.
Like I mentioned in posts past, Sydney was a very nice place to be, both in terms of my accommodations (which I'm still appreciating, and will continue to do so) and in terms of my surroundings.
But something felt amiss.
Chances are, it was something in me more than it was something that wasn't in Sydney, but whatever the reason, things feel much more in place here than they did there, and as I have no roots whatsoever, it's a good feeling to have.
After 2 of the most hilarious and thoroughly interesting nights I've had in a good year*, Yael picked me up from my hostel this morning and we spent the day catching up and touring Melbourne.
The weather was gorgeous and we strolled Carlisle and Chapel Streets, found some sweet market, walked down to the beach and had an amazing meal at "Lentil As Anything" which is a non-profit vegan/vegetarian restuarant that provides food on a "pay as you wish" basis and is run by volunteers: www.lentilasanything.com
Needless to say, THAT WAS COOL.
Then we went back to Yael's apartment which is, for lack of a better word, Awesome.
I have my own room with my own huge bed and my own key.
After sharing a room with maybe the bitchiest French girl I've ever met, this improvement is immeasurable.
Yael and I had some wine and caught up and reconnected some more, which made me realize just how much I love meeting people and making friends.
[Sure, it sounds trite when you read it on a blog, but for me, one of the most important reasons to travel is to meet and learn from other people.
Something about Melbourne lends itself to that far more than Sydney did.]
Then we went to drinks with some of her friends, who were all also hilarious and interesting, and then we rented a movie* and put on sweats and noshed on fresh fruit.
This may be the best Sunday I've ever had, and I'm 24 years old.
*Since the hilarious and interesting details of my stays in the hostel are too many for this post, inquire within for more information. Just refresh me with the word "goon."
*For those who haven't seen the movie "66," please do so. It's hilarious. Caitlin Mae and Laurenhart, I'm looking at you.
Forgive me if this rambling is too cheesy, but as my favorite author Kurt Vonnegut's favorite uncle Alex once said, "if this isn't nice, I don't know what is."
Plans are still very much unmade for the future (ie: the next 2 weeks and beyond) but I'll keep you all posted.
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