In the first 90 days of 2018, I have traversed more of the Eastern Coast of Australia than I have the U.S. coasts combined. I'm the luckiest beazy alive, if not for the fact that I live in Sydney with a job and spot I love but because I've had no less than three visitors come to Oz: lifelong friends from LA days that range from childhood romps to collegiate escapades.
I haven't written or drafted or shared with my humans (all twelve of you) for a few reasons: travel fatigue and a classic holiday hangover; logistical obstacles (such as leaving my laptop at home during most of my coastal adventures); most importantly, a strong desire to soak up the present moment and company of my far-away friends. I am dead-set, however, on forever-remembering each ounce of detail from these trips and discoveries. This will hopefully be made possible by my faithful journaling habit, iCloud shared Photo Streams, my kind friends below and their half of our memories, and written recollections of epic proportions (like that in my birthday card from Lys!).
A new romantic prospect (Source: Bumble for iOS) recently asked what I meant by a “holiday hangover.” I am currently enduring Week 3 of a short- to mid-term, treatable condition that consists of multiple familiar symptoms:
Recovery step 1: Reflection
A recent yoga practice spoke to the three layers of our spiritual self: the physical body, the energetic body and the emotional (or inner) body. First, the physical body is what we use and feel daily: our bones and muscles, our skin and exterior senses, pain and tightness and many sorts of pleasure. Second, the energetic body is that which sustains us, provides life: our heart beat and blood flow, our energy and oxygen, the electricity that flows to our fingertips igniting movement and ability. Finally, our emotional self contains the parts we feel only inside: heartache, sadness, joy, relaxation.
These first three months of 2018 have been rich with not only visitors but abundant expeditions and luxuries within, including but not limited to epic views, delicious delicacies, adventurous lodging and discoveries that awe-inspired me. Each of my three layers of self were tried, tested and stretched to new degrees. I fell in love with no less than four new towns and regions and reunited with three lifelong friends in my new reality: Sydney life! Before I reflect on their countless stories, I thought I’d analyse how they’ve left me feeling.
Recovery step 2: Recollection
Reading through my first journal (which spanned the six months of Oz) and current one has been cathartic, perspective-granting and unexpectedly beautiful. My emotions and musings have varied SO widely since my arrival on the evening of August 6th in AEST. The tiniest interactions, some of which have now faded from immediate memory, comprised each brick of the foundation for my imminent assimilation and coming-of-age as a Sydney-sider. Every cafe I tried or window display I passed contained some kind of symbolic reassurance that I was in the right place; signs from the Universe were bountiful if only because I had wide eyes for them. Still do.
Now, I'll tell the story of my explorations across a new land. I'll leave no stone nor palm frond nor seashell unturned. I'll reminisce, re-read journal entries and reach to recall jam-packed days and blurry nights. Most importantly, I'll share that not each leg of this journey or sticky week in Sydney has been flawless nor easy. Though Facebook and Instagram say otherwise, there's an abundance of unspoken (or un-posted, rather) feels, including but not limited to: loneliness, homesickness, stress and anguish, and even guilt and shame for getting lost. In this context, "lost" could mean feeling lost metaphorically, getting temporarily lost within 1k of my flat, and leading friends down the wrong path quite literally until you find yourself hailing a taxi and searching in desperation for a rural motel with a vacancy within the hour.
What do I mean, you ask? Stay tuned, as this might get juicy.
A broad down under