I’ve been a little silent recently regarding my ideas and the workings of my girlish brain.
I’d rather write guides, show your gorgeous images, and tell you how great the last beach I visited was (and it was! ), but that’s not the point of this essay.
Today I’m feeling strange.
People ask me why I have these seasonal lows as if it’s something I should be able to dig inside and cure, and I’m like if I knew why, I’d simply release this anxiety that not so politely wears, but because I don’t, we uncomfortably stare at each other in my head until one of us wins the staring game.
As I was laying under a mosquito net in a bamboo hut in Mozambique a few months back, a nomad friend of mine suffered from it and inquired whether I ever felt incomplete or questioned what it was for. He asked the same questions I had asked myself and continue to ask now:
Is it just another lovely sunset, a sandy beach, a mountain top, or a valley in the middle? Was he just going around in circles?
Since loneliness outweighed everything, he had become numb to the beauty of adventure. I was all too familiar with these emotions.
Yet, at the moment he asked, I was as content as a clam (extra note: where did this statement come from? Are clams especially happy? ), and while I felt sorry for him, I was glad at the moment. that it was not I who was in pain.
I know I’m a great buddy, aren’t I? Kris, you did an excellent job of showing unity!
I had taken a detour to get to this wonderful area. This occurred following a heartbreak during the summer.
I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in years and couldn’t get over it. Our reunion was greater than an Oscar-winning film, and I couldn’t have scripted a finer ending to our narrative if I had envisaged all the lovely possibilities. I remember returning home and telling my girlfriends that if it couldn’t work, nothing would work and that if it didn’t work, I was going to quit.
Nevertheless, like previously, it didn’t work for the same reason: my lifestyle. It’s always the same person.
I meet someone great and wonder whether this is it. I’m starting to let my girlish mind run wild, conjuring up visions of a wonderful future. We’d buy a Land Rover and trek through Africa together. No, no, no! Even better, we’d rent a boat and tour the fjords of New Zealand or Chile. Norway? That didn’t matter, we’d locate fjords and sail the hell out of them, and it’d be great. We’d cook these pickle sandwiches or catch our own fish and live like Robinson Crusoe on a desolate island all to ourselves. Isn’t that completely realistic?
But then he’ll be the one who appeared to be too good on paper to have time for me with his busy career, or I’ll be away and my potential soul mate meets someone else, or things change, we become different people, and before he even takes his rudders off the dock, he sinks to the bottom of the ocean to become another wreck dive – doesn’t even need an anchor (sorry for all maritime metaphors).
Following that, I turned over a new leaf and resolved to pursue just what I desired, regardless of what came my way. I believed it would be a reoccurring issue until I was ready to live a more sedentary life, and I just needed to live my best life to achieve happiness. Nobody else could have done it.
Suddenly, just when I needed it the most, I got a life-changing realization that I was finally enough.
That was fantastic. To ultimately be content with me, I almost entirely hushed that negative inner voice.
I was on fire once that optimism went through me. I invested in my career, meditation, and friendships. Things have started to go so well for me professionally, and I’ve attained a goal I’d hoped for: affirmation not just from the media, but also from my friends, family, and, most importantly, myself.
I recall sitting in Mozambique and thinking to myself, “This is truly great.”
And then, for some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, I was unsatisfied again, sitting in a hostel in Chilean Patagonia a few months later. I was concerned that I had gone too far in the opposite way.
Have I evolved into someone who refuses to let people in? Have I grown too self-centered to share or make concessions? I fear to acknowledge that I might have done so.
I know I often support solo travel as the greatest way to get to know people, but I’m also beginning to wonder about the law of diminishing returns. I mean, I’ve been doing it for about four years, so why shouldn’t I share it at some point?
Shall I tell you? I never got used to sharing chocolate, for example, and to be honest, I’m more happy not sharing. Everyone should have their own and should not beg to sample mine. I’m concerned that revealing trip plans fall into this category as well, and if it does, I’m scared I’ll be doomed.
I believe that building something is the key to happiness, at least for me. It’s not simply a business or a relationship; it’s a life I’m proud of. Occasionally adventure distracts me enough from these ideas that I forget about them, but I’m not convinced that continual running is the answer. It can be a part of the journey, but it cannot be the entire voyage (I’m sorry, I’m still using metaphors here). I’m still not sure how to integrate people into this circumstance, but I suppose I should act like an adult and try.
… And then I thought, maybe on a Tuesday, I’ll simply cycle east as far as my legs will take me, and then when I feel weary, I’ll lie in the grass and watch the clouds, picking out fluffy creatures until the sky gets black and they morph into constellations, and maybe this would be just what I needed. There were no answers, yet no questions were raised.
And I know everything will be great in the end.
Thank you for taking the time to listen. Writing to you is frequently the most therapeutic. Good evening.
Girl’s Brain: When you’re lying in bed with no distractions worthy of the name and you’ve turned something in your mind too much – probably something a potential romantic partner said or something you read that made you feel inadequate or some creepy little word that made you feel meh – and you don’t even know what it was but you can’t get rid of it and god, when does this spiral end?
