The grass is always greener

I arrived In Sydney that morning. Soon, I was staring at the ocean from the opposite side of the world. I heard a roar of a plane overhead.  I looked up and saw the familiar kangaroo emblem on its tail. Was it the same plane that had dropped me off hours ago? Was it going back home? I felt like a lost child in a parking lot watching mother’s car slowly drive off.

As the days here have passed, I keep noticing planes flying overhead. I wonder where they are going and who they are leaving behind.  Are their lives about to change or are they going on a routine business trip? The possibility of it all makes me contemplate my situation.

San Francisco was an amazing place. I could be in a cozy coffee shop watching someone jam on their Fisher-Price boom-box or could go for a hike alongside the ocean watching surfers from the overhang.  I could love this city.  The warm nights gave me a nostalgic feeling of a summer long gone in Chicago.

I walked along the Sydney Harbor Bridge remembering the first time I had seen it. I remember staring at the forged steel and brick in perfect unison over the gentle waves of the water underneath.  I stood in amazement back then. But now the Golden Gate Bridge outshines Sydney Harbor Bridge in an industrial orange sunburst. 

A few days ago when I sat on the beach watching the planes overhead I was homesick. I wondered again why I was here. If I were in Chicago, I would wonder the same thing.  Many of us have this ingrained notion that we should constantly be striving for something better, that this (whatever “this” is) is not enough. We work harder for more things, we travel further for more exotic lands, constantly wanting something else.  It generates the idea that where we are is not good enough. Engineers and entrepreneurs make a living this constant search for a better future.

The progress of humanity has been dependant on a search for something better. On one hand we are never happy with what we have, but on the other hand we are achieving progress.  Sometimes we find what we are looking for. Sometimes we find we always had what we were looking for. Sometimes we find what we want isn’t what we need. Ultimately the search for something greater  teaches us more than the result.

Somewhere over the rain....

After much anxiety, stress, and worry, I settled back into my coach seat with a glass of Jack Daniels in my hand. I was re-reading a book by one of my favorite authors of Western style Buddhism. I took a deep breath. I started to relax and the feelings of worry started to settle. I was not rid of my worry, but instead I didn’t let it bother me. Acceptance. My mind felt  sore from being so would up for the past few days. I looked over out the window and I saw it. It was a patch of rainbow and we were flying above it. Maybe that’s what the top of a rainbow looks like.

  Rainbows had become a symbol for me in New Zealand.  I went to New Zealand without knowing anyone and started over. At first I stressed out and I strived to be ok with my decision. Some days were better than others. When I despaired and reached a breaking point, I held on, and came back to center. After I accepted the situation, the universe reassured me that everything was fine. I would see a rainbow. I know- sounds crazy. And if you are familiar with New Zealand, rainbows aren’t that uncommon. But I would see them exactly when it mattered.  I faced difficult decisions out there and only after my decision was made AND I was OK with it, would I see a rainbow. I wasn’t a divine sign showing me the way, it was a sign that I would be fine regardless of what happened.

There were many instances, but one of them was pretty frightening. New Zealand’s weather changes incredibly fast making it difficult for predicting good hiking weather. I was on an alpine mountain crossing when it started to hail. It became so windy that twice I was knocked down on the ground. The ridge I was on was narrow and slippery from the hail. I couldn’t turn back, but I couldn’t go forward. I crouched on the side of the mountain, waiting for the weather to subside, but I was getting very cold and wet.  I had to keep going. I crawled along the ridge with a pack on my back until I could get up without being knocked down by the wind. As I crawled I thought, I might not make it. But I couldn’t let that bother me or else I would not make it. So I kept going, only focusing on my next steps. A few days later I was in the town nearest to that mountain. I was walking down the road, and I looked up. There was fresh snow on that mountain and a rainbow piercing the clouds. This wasn’t the only time this had happened.

So as I sat there, after all my stress about leaving again, I became OK with it. I knew I was doing this because I would be more unhappy not doing it. Regret, especially due to lack of resolve,  is my biggest fear.  I looked at the rainbow. Tears streaming down slowly over my cheeks as the rainbow slowly faded away.

I was content for the rest of the trip. It had been raining heavily heading into the San Francisco. The plane had been very shaky. It felt like I was in  a toy plane on a  mobile above a child’s crib. The rain was coming down hard, streaking against the windows sideways, making it look like cracks in the glass. There was no visibility. I expected air masks to shoot out suddenly in the dark cabin. I looked out the window again and I saw white peaks. Snow in California? I had no idea how high or where we were. Maybe the Sierra Nevada had snow? No. They were whitecaps in the ocean. The waves were violently protesting all the rain that it had taken in. I kept staring as we grew closer and closer to the water. I wasn’t sure why we were over the ocean when we flew from Chicago.

We flew closer and closer to the water. We were just barely above the waves. As we approached the ocean I braced for a water landing. I was terrified of drowning, but it didn’t matter. I had no control, no amount of worry would change anything. Suddenly there was a loud bang and with a harsh jolt we were airborne and then dropped back in our seats, feeling land under the wheels. We had landed. Everyone cheered. I didn’t know the tarmac paralleled the ocean in San Francisco. A wave of relief swept over me. My journey had begun.

Even my coffee cup wants to know...

I’m leaving Chicago in 3 days. I’ll be starting over in a new country in a week. I’ve been a mix of nervous, anxious and moody. I tend to overthink everything now, in reaction to my pending departure. I went from “who knows if I’ll come back” to “I’ll be here in May”.  Its just easier when the ground is pulled from under your feet that you hold on to something. I’m holding on to May, for practical reasons. If I want to start grad school, I’ll need time to apply for 2011. But I’m also clinging to May because its easier to comprehend. It gives me a preliminary goal, something I can understand. And when I tell people May, they can understand it too, so it doesn’t feel so far away. Time is only understood measured.

Like most people, I’ve measured my life in terms of relative achievements and goals. Not having a defined goal makes your life harder to quantify. Without a relative destination, where am I? I would love to say I have a plan for my life. That way I could at least know where I was at right now in relation.  And that is exactly my problem. Constantly looking for an answer to help define myself. It gets exhausting. I have to stop living in the future. Because regardless of how I will remember this era, It doesn’t matter. I have to be focused on living it right now.

I remind myself to think of the present. I refocus from trying to comprehend some wider unknown goal, to focus on what is right in front of me. I become calmer and more aware. This does not mean I lack objectives, it just means I let them develop naturally. I don’t make goals to make me feel better, I make goals because I truly want to achieve them. This thought makes me relax a bit, my face softens. It will come to me. I know it will.

Quiet Girl

I  used to be that girl. The one that was spoke so quietly that her voice faded into background noise. The girl that hid behind her hair and stared at her shoes. The girl that was dismissed easily because she didn’t command attention. Growing up I had a hard time relating to people. Even ordering food at a fast food restaurant was difficult. The anxiety that would creep in of saying the wrong thing or even being so unsure of what I wanted that the pressure to tell the cashier my order was overwhelming. It sort of got better over time. Not a huge amount, but I at least I had a few routines I followed  to minimize my anxiety. I ordered the same thing at every restaurant, I left the room when I had nothing to say. Still,  when people in positions of power spoke to me, I had often reverted back to the quiet girl with her head down. I don’t know why, I was not really shy. When I was comfortable, I talked about everything and anything. I was open. I was a even bit of a daredevil.

Fast  forward to my adult life. I was not happy. I had been in a 9 year relationship that drained any bits of self confidence. In a job where there was no creative outlet. I tried to look for another job, but I always shot myself down before I even applied. I know I’m smart, resourceful and a hard worker but what does that matter if I can’t have confidence in myself? Who would have faith in me?

So I left it all behind when I got on that plane to the Southern Hemisphere. I became someone that no one knew. And I did things I didn’t know I was capable of doing. I went up to random people and introduced myself. I adjusted to living with people I had just met. I'm scared of heights, but I made myself go skydiving. I snorkeled even though my fear of drowning kept me inhaling water. I just kept doing it. And I would love to say it is easy now and my problems are solved. But its not. Its something I have to do over and over again. Discomfort is a good teacher. That first hello to someone new, I bite my tongue. But that second hello to the next person comes with a genuine smile.

What Motivates You?

A few years ago I was in college for my undergrad. I remember my favorite philosophy professor made a comment to me that still makes me contemplate its meaning. He remarked, you are a person that needs to find meaning in your work. I remember being surprised at this comment, and even somewhat speechless. Didn’t everyone find meaning in their work? Why would that be so odd?

Three years after graduation I found myself in a rut and I left to travel. I put myself in uncomfortable situations to make up for my prior laziness. I went to New Zealand lived in hostels, hitchhiked, lived in an ashram, climbed a few mountains and learned how to live on a boat. The best part of it all was meeting people that were doing the same thing. People that were unsatisfied with their living situations and took to the road. So lately I’ve taken to trying to figure out what motivates people. 

I’ve received a variety of answers many boiling down to money and fame, but those just don’t excite me. I am not passing judgment on those, but it just doesn’t do it for me. Travel get me excited, but does it motivate me? Not necessarily. The feeling from understanding the world as part of an integrated universe. The experience in everything around me. In short, feeling alive and learning from it.

Can that happen without travel, in our everyday lives? Maybe. But for me it happens most when I travel. I tend to meet new people when I travel and within minutes know a lot about them. I take a better look around when I am traveling. I do and learn new things. I feel connected to the world around me. That motivates me. How can I continue to do it? How can I turn this into a career or at least sustain the pace?

**sigh** I wish I were motivated by money or fame. That would be a lot easier.