Friday 14 December 2012

Hello December - looking back & blogging through the 'flu

December in London - 5.00pm

So, apparently it's half-way through December... And suddenly I'm looking down the home straight.  My flight is no less than THREE sleeps away.  I can count the hours until Nick and I board our Air China jet for the start of our 56-hour (!) odyssey back to the Southern Hemisphere.

And with perfect timing, my body has decided to help me wind down by catching a hefty flu/tuberculosis/whooping cough combo.  My standard expression for the last week-and-a-half:


Sensing that once the cold tablets have worn off I will realise the lunacy of posting this on the internet...

Being housebound with outside temperatures plummeting and a mild dependency on mulled wine developing, I've started to look back on the whirlwind of the last 11 months.  

I have most recently visited Finland and Bologna, and those trips have been amazing.  But while I'm reminiscing, and before I dose you with another photo-a-thon, I thought I'd share some of my 'highlights' from the year, and even some of the lessons I think I might have learned, if I can claim to be wiser from the experience.  

I've also been struck with a big dose of "oh shit, what was my plan for NZ again..?" so I'll touch on that a little too.  And all in that tidy order; it helps me feel like I'm making sense of things!

First things first:  Highlights

The Basilica San Vitale in Ravenna - been wanting to check it out since 6th form, it didn't disappoint

I've travelled to a fair few places this year.  Not an insane amount, but enough to make my head spin nonetheless.  Along the way and  for various reasons, some places and events have proven to be even more amazing than the rest.  A non-exhaustive list, in no particular order of things that stand out in my Sudafed haze flash-back:

  • Portland, OR: super-cool hosts courtesy of airbnb.com, more sweet vintage sh*t than you can shake a stick at (for pennies!!) and the best beers I've tasted yet puts Portland up there as one of my fave spots;  
  • The Berkeley Spa Experience was one-of-a-kind; 
  • Americans (in general); 
  • Staying on Fox Island, Puget Sound - taken in by wonderful people who didn't know me from a bar of soap;
  • Manchester, of all places - here's an example of why.
  • Finland (post to come!) lived up to and exceeded all expectations, again aided by a wonderful host met earlier in the year in NY;  
  • new family in Spain and London
  • Seeing Henry V at the Globe
  • making it to see a stage of the Tour
  • hiking in the Pyrenees and, of all things, 
  • the infamous night we spent 'car camping' in this magical place:

view of Castle Stalker from the 'campsite'
Hilarious what turns out to be the good stuff.  Then there are the little things - trips to Liberty's, Aussie coffee at Grind in Putney, relaxing by the river in Perarrua, a hundred little bits and pieces that I know will keep popping back into my mind for ever and ever.


The carpet section on the top floor at Liberty's - many a pilgrimage made.

However when I was looking back through the photos for this post, the biggest smiles came to my face when I saw photos of the people I've met. It might be an obvious one, but it has been wonderful to rekindle old friendships in new settings, and it has been especially fun meeting new people.  These have been the most 'stretchy' experiences for me, going out on a limb to make connections with new people and every single time being amazed at the kindness of near-strangers.   

I'm often too shy (yes, really) to take photos of these moments and then regret it later, but I have taken some - so; to friends old and new - the best part.


Beautiful, kind people


'Lessons'
As well as the things which stood out as extra interesting/beautiful/fun, there are some stand-out things I seem to be thinking to myself frequently throughout the trip.  I'll call them lessons, although they're probably a bit of a mash-up of all sorts.

Before leaving NZ, I had coffee with a friend in Wellington who said to me matter-of-factly, “Sarah, you’re putting a bit much pressure on yourself for this trip - you'd better not be planning on getting enlightened while you’re away or 'finding your calling'”. 

I quickly changed conversational tack and took an intense interest in the weather.  But of course, friends are mind-readers and mine knew I was desperately hoping to ‘get enlightened’ by the magical travel fairies and come back raring to go – immunizing orphan children or whatever.

I realised pretty quickly after departure that constantly moving around is great for information gathering, and less conducive to spontaneous revelation. As it turns out, if you take yourself to the other side of the world, you’re the same person there as you were back home.  Not heaps wiser or anything.  Huh.

A long way from home, on Mallorca
However – this knowledge is not the depressing realisation I would have thought if you’d told me in February that it would be one of my Grand Conclusions.

Why? Because it is accompanied by a second realisation – that finding the perfect thing for me to do and doing it absolutely perfectly?  Doesn’t matter so much.  In fact, worrying about it less would probably do me a lot of good.  For an authenticity-obsessed perfectionist, that’s a bit of an adjustment.

I’ve been a bit of a cart-before-the-horse type when it comes to ‘life planning’.  My brain has worked along the assumption that if I can only:
  1. figure out how the world works (maybe by going to University… or living in a different city… or going on a trip of random countries for a year…?) then I can
  2. Figure out my take on it all, and
  3. Decide how I should apply myself to best effect.  (I'm not sure how I imagined I'd pay the bills etc while I sorted this out - my brain isn't practical like that.)
But meeting a few people/seeing a few places and generally appreciating that this world's a big, old place and I'm a pretty small part in it has got the brain stretching itself enough to realise that there's something amiss with the above strategy.

It would be awesome.  It is also impossible. It turns out you can't taste all of life at once and then choose which part you think is best.  The only thing for it is to pick a piece and bite it (life is now a cake - roll with it).

At this point I realise you may well be marvelling at how I find such round-about routes to come to the most basic of conclusions.  You’re welcome.

The real change isn't in what I'm doing, but in giving myself permission to stop agonising over where things are leading and just learn from what's in front of me.  This would've been a useful revelation at the start of the year, and saved me a lot of "but what does it mean" moments.  But that's the point isn't it - 'experiential learning' and all.
This quote I came across in March confused me madly then, but has been a sort of guide throughout the year, changing colour and shape in my mind until I now love it.
...plans?
 My plans for returning to NZ aren't rocket-science or revolutionary.  At present they probably look relatively mundane, from loose criteria for work (writing involved, a general mission I can sign up to), to 'extra-curricular' bits and bobs (re-learning how to paint, instead of half-heartedly dragging out the pencil box every six months), to slowly plodding on in the church/spirituality vein, they're all about starting small and just getting amongst.

It might not be everybody's idea of fun, but turns out it is mine. No more agonizing over Grand Plans (well, old habits die hard but less of it anyway), more getting on with it.  
In Spain - looking pretty much the same as when this whole thing kicked off.  Just a bit more chilled out.

So!  The most photo-less, thought-ful blog post yet.  Enough of that - time to top up the Sudafed and head out into the cold to finish off the last of the Christmas shopping...

I'll leave you now until the next (and potentially last!) post.  Happy December - !!    





Lots of love as always,


Sarah 




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