May 23, 2017, Muriwai Beach, Auckland
Last days in New Zealand
Why did I even come to New Zealand? What was the motivation? I think it was partly because there is this huge possibility for a big life and like they say we only use 5% of our brains, I was only using 5% of my life. I felt trapped in a world I fell into, not one that I’d curated and selected. I wanted to feel active, to choose, to be present. It wasn’t really about seeing the sights; it was about understanding “who am I really?” in a radically new place.
Why do I feel so ready to leave? I think it’s because I am over the ellipsis part of my life. I’m ready to build structure. To commit to a period. To commit to another sentence.
Fuck see you later. Get comfortable with goodbye. Can you live with it? Don’t erase permanence. Sometimes we open up to periods. It weakens the sentence to passively run on.
Don’t be false. Be brave. Own up to letting go. And letting back in.
I’m struck by many surprising revelations:
- I am not who I thought I was
- Are we ever?
- I like who it is I am but thought I wasn’t
- I don’t like sleeping in my car
- #Vanlife is not for me. I don’t like not knowing where I am going to sleep next. So what if that means I'm not cool?
- I love few but tenderly and I can’t fake it. I feel like I’m always outside friendships when they’re in this false state and I can’t stand to be outside my own life
- I am never going to do anything like other people, so why am I always surprised?
- Loneliness is real and it’s not shameful
- I’m no less independent or determined for acknowledging my loneliness
- I drove across a country in a car I bought and bartered for. I did it without maps, without a co-pilot
- I plunged elbow-deep into deer’s vagina.
- I shot a dear and pulled its heart out with my hands.
- I thought. All the time. I thought on overdrive. I wrote. I learned that “Who am I really?” is a surprising and necessary question.
- The heart of the matter = people. That’s what drives me. That’s why I do the things I do. And while I met good, true humans here, they aren’t my people. And I need that. I crave that.
- Sometimes driving with my eyes wide open is all I need. Or a moment like this one: sitting on glossy, black, sea-soaked rocks under a muted sun watching surfers and birds flutter in the wind.
This. This is enough.