Reflections of a departing traveller
And a quick little rant for the full moon
The bulk of this post was written in one of the month-long Cohorts offered by CoAuthored.
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But before I get into the Foster piece, I wanted to bang out a few general reflections.
Since my last post, highlighting Australian peculiarities when it comes to online communication and communication generally, I’ve had only mild episodes of oddness. Aside from the prolific rate of apologies from all Australians for being/doing/existing wherever they happen to be at the moment you cross their path, I’ve found that they’re terrible negotiators.
My recent negotiation experience (online) went like this:
Seller: If you pay cash I’ll give you $20 off.
Me: If you can give me $50 off, I’d be chuffed.
Seller: Hmm. Then let's leave it full price and you can pay with payID.
Me: If you’re not happy to make a discount of $50, you can just tell me that you’re not happy to make a discount of $50. That’s completely OK.
Seller: OK.
I’ve never come across a negotiation strategy where the approach is simply to rescind the offer and say NO SOUP (OR DISCOUNT) FOR YOU. Clearly I upset this person's incredible online sellers moral code of conduct in asking for a better deal, and they felt it necessary to strike at the very heart of our negotiation by taking any reduction off the table.
Jokes on them though, as they ended up giving me not a $20 discount, not a $50 discount, but a full price discount - after I looked at it and decided purely based on this interaction not to buy the futon. Who looks stupid now (as I sleep on a mattress on the floor)?
I’m still looking for a mattress and a better than $50 discount, so hit a brother up if you’re in the know on such a thing. Also a bed frame, bedding, and everything else that one needs to upgrade a room from an empty room to a place called a bedroom. Roof and four walls I’ve got sorted though, don’t you worry about that.
Ah yes, that will be the final thing I’d like to touch on regarding the readjustment to Australia.
For those of you who are not familiar with the Great Southern Land, not only are we famous for slaughtering the native people and then actively trying to breed them out of existence with a policy known as the White Australia Policy (abolished in 1973 - that’s 51 years, folks) but we also try to kill our current residents with a policy known as the Weatherboard Housing Construction Policy (not a real thing).
What this looks like is people are domiciled beneath a roof, and contained on all sides with walls, but - surprise - the walls and the roof work to keep the room temperature anywhere between 1 and 3 degrees warmer than outside. I’ve been waking up to lovely, sunny, 9 degree mornings, and have been fortunate enough to enjoy a lovely, brisk 11 degree room temperature.
‘Oh, but Australia is a hot country, they must have designed the houses to keep cool in the summer’.
So you would think, and you would be fooled yet again.
Not only will it keep your home cool in the winter, but our great Weatherboard Housing Construction Policy ensures that your rooms will be between 1 and 3 degrees cooler than outside in summer, allowing you to enjoy the full warmth of the Australia sun without ever needing to leave the comfort and privacy of your own sweat lodge…. Err, home.
Perhaps this is why the people here are all so quick to take offence. They’re simply either freezing cold or blazing hot. Or they’re suffering deeply inside, faced with their blatant hypocrisy as they bang their virtual-signalling drums about climate change whilst simultaneously using central heating every single day throughout winter, before shifting to air conditioning for every single day throughout the summer.
I do love being back though. At least I can rip on the locals in my mother tongue and never feel like I need to negotiate a 17-syllable word in order to get my point across. Most Australianisms can be expressed almost entirely monosyllabically.
Case in point: get a dog up ya!
Enjoy the full moon and the eclipse, and the piece that follows.
I guess my next piece will be late as I’m going into a vipassana on the 25th and it won’t wrap up till the 6th; usually I like to take a few days for myself afterwards for reintegration as well.
Stay fresh.
These are the reflections as I moved from ‘buying a ticket back to Australia’ to ‘leaving Germany for Australia’. It was stressful, exciting, and tense. With time and space - half a world’s worth of space - the reflections look amusing, almost entertaining, but having gone through them and wearing the scars of the process, I can assure you they were not lovely at the time.
But a lot of benefits came from them. In these reflections lay the seeds for some powerful conversations between my father and I, the fruits of which are continuing to be yielded as the impact of our discussion lands fully for me.
And the decision to leave Germany, although a tough choice, is proving itself swiftly to be the right one. It’s feeling a whole lot like home at the moment, and I feel very relaxed and peaceful. I’ve missed this feeling.
Enough introductory waffle, here it is.
8 August 2024
14 nights until I leave my German life behind for good. I know it’s what I want and need, but fuck do I feel nervous. Scattered bags, half-filled with books or clothes, decorate the room. They appear as an external expression of my internal chaos.
Every time I do something I need to do, another thing is packed away appropriately. I am not doing all I can because I am stressed to the eyeballs. So perhaps, in a weird way, I am doing all that I can.
Behind the stress is lots of sadness.
I am leaving behind plenty of lovely things, predominantly people. And my eyes get wet with ease. But before the stress lies boredom, and this turns me into Misery In Human Form; it blocks me from appreciating the good sides of life.
Encompassing it all is profound faith.
I know it’s right, even if it’s hard. And when I sit with that faith, happiness rises and the chaos of my room ceases to be overwhelming. Just a few physical objects to move left, right, front, and back.
Confidence returns and I prepare to pack another thing. But sadness is allowed to share space with confidence. Slowly I’m learning that all emotions are welcome.
9 August 2024
The objects have decreased in number, and the sadness is making its way to the surface.
I am drinking tea by the bucket like I once would have done with whisky, and listening to my classic ‘Drunk Nick Chick Vocal Sad Pop’ playlist (titled ‘Possibly the best thing’). In an instant I saw into my past, post-cancer, in the thick of being upset about my life, and saw the pattern of sadness in its original form.
The expression ‘emotionally fancy’ has come to mean ‘very sensitive’ to me, and at the moment I am off the charts in my emotional fanciness. The room is almost totally empty and when it is – tomorrow – I will be technically homeless ‘til I figure out my next moves.
Yet this doesn’t generate fear or anxiety. It, paradoxically, reminds me of that faith I wrote about yesterday, and I am inspired to let go of even more things. But stuff can be replaced and at the moment the sadness is all about leaving the place and the people – things that can’t be replaced.
It feels like preemptive grieving and I am right fucking in it. And that’s how it’s supposed to be.
10 August 2024.
After the emotionally fancy waves of last night I had a chance to chat with my brother and remind myself of the good aspects of the decision to leave Germany behind. I found the extra push to get rid of even more of the material possessions and am slowly but surely finding the excitement in my body.
Today was all about transport and the absurd amount of comfort items I have acquired made it feel like hard labour.
I remembered the first time I left the country – just a backpack and a side bag – and it helped remind me that the luxuries of comfort become like golden shackles. So, no, I won’t stress trying to pack a kettle and a teaset into my bags.
The beauty of life is in the freedom of lightness, and heavy bags bring the opposite.
Being completely in the body, the emotional waves have been relatively subdued and I am relieved. Although, at the end of my meditation practice this morning I experienced intense, crushing pain in the centre of my chest. Fitting, I had cacao this evening to heal the wound.
12 days to go. If I count down, I’ll cry. I guess those emotions are still there, after all.
11 August 2024
I got to embody a different primary emotion today: anger, with a side of frustration. Or perhaps it’s the other way around.
There was a silver lining though: because I was so busy being mad about the fact that I just could not get a work thing to click, I had no time at all to be sad! I also had the universal push to take some time for myself and do some sport.
I failed to communicate something yesterday – more than once – and my friend dropped a gem on me: ‘I understand that you have a lot on your mind, but also focus on the little steps along the way’. This gave expression to what has been nagging at me that I hadn’t been able to name
Between packing, bureaucracy, farewells, and being angry, I’m barely aware of the tiny moments making up the flood that is washing me away. But I have reminders cosmically hidden inside people and expressed through synchronicity. They pop up whenever I need them most. I’ve got this.
12 August 2024
I forgot exactly how much stuff I left at the farm until I opened the door to face The Library I’d left scattered across the floor. But it’s not important.
This phase is fucking tough. I am short-tempered, distracted, and frustrated. I feel like a cantankerous, old, 35-year old, and it’s not the greatest. This farm visit feels like my last chance to run away from responsibility before needing to wrap it all up in a slam dunk.
The airline emailed me today – 10 days to go! It’s not even a full vipassana timespan.
This entry feels as though it captures all of my energy appropriately – distracted, half-thought out, inconclusive. I think that I am trying to insulate myself from the shock of New Reality by disconnecting beforehand, but all that does is put me in this misery.
All of the emotions need to be felt, even the less sexy ones. It’s also unfair that I let myself become hollowed-out because my loved ones here also deserve to have nice last memories.
Tomorrow is a new day, let’s see where the wind blows me.
13 August 2024
I feel as though this piece will read like a horror story. It isn’t that terrible, it’s just very hard. Today was the last day to get shit done at the farm and it was nearly impossible.
I did get a nice dinner cooked for everyone though.
I broke my lamp and am writing by phone-torchlight. I burnt a stack of paperwork in the fire oven and the wind turned, pulling all the smoke into my room. One of my clients was barely satisfied with the work I had done.
Feels as though the fibres of my resolve are being tested. But it’s a phase, nothing more nothing less. And it’s getting better.
14 August 2024
It feels as if I broke the devil’s leg today. Shit got gone with no delay, and I actually feel as though I’m halfway ready for the incoming rebirth. I still have to get the question of ‘home’ answered though.
I see that I approach my life entirely differently depending on my home environment. Perhaps that’s the purpose of this journey, to help me peel back the parts of me that change, in order to reveal the constant, steady form that doesn’t have radical differences.
This entry shows that the emotional overwhelm has taken a step back, and it has allowed the contemplative, reflective self to come to life. This is the self that can exist only when all the bullshit of material reality like cleaning and packing has been done.
The emotional turbulence is definitely connected to that stuff. Rather than feeling my emotions and packing my things, I scatter everything around and feel nothing but frustration. But I feel pretty good now.
The things needing my attention are work, bureaucracy and relationships – things that I consider fair use of my time. But Jesus Christ, fuck THINGS! Swinging the metaphorical axe got me loads of physical, emotional, and psychological space.
15 August 2024
Today brought excitement and good feelings for the coming days. Having the material packed – at least mentally – gives me the space to dig into those areas I mentioned previously (work, bureaucracy, relationships).
I’ve stopped thinking ‘need to do this, need to do that’. Now the thoughts are ‘I’m going to do this, I’m going to do that, but when I get there’.
Still I have this division where today is slipping past me, but honestly I felt pretty present for the day. I think there’s a crash waiting for me though. It feels as though I’m only getting through the days because I build my day around getting loads of caffeine in nice and quickly.
It’s more to do with having a workspace than wanting the coffee, but the result doesn’t care about the cause. Naja, I’m flying into winter, so I’ll be sure to have a rest – combined with jet lag – before I know it. But the excitement is slowly starting to be the dominant force!
17 August 2024
I missed yesterday’s reflection but the reason for that was a deep aching to be free from all plans, timelines, deadlines, responsibilities etc. Every day for the past two weeks has felt less like living life and more like working through it, so I took a long, purposeless walk and got to the point of empty mind.
I was neither sad nor happy, just suspended between all states for the entire time, so I broke through the plateau with low-intensity monotony.
Today I feel exhausted, but I also got to do a farewell and a photoshoot, so the energy use was well spent. It’s important that I quarantine parts of my day for joy and contentment. I don’t need to constantly talk about the big process of change that I’m in. I can just as easily enjoy the moment with a friend.
The material detachment is picking up steam and I am casting things aside with increasing pace, however I do see that I’m trying to replace all manner of things with tech. There is a rebirth occurring in the background of this relocation and it seems as if the AV world of tech might be where it happens.
I feel better able to express myself with spoken words sometimes, so that could be the next avenue I go down. Time will tell.
19 August 2024
Missed another entry. I feel less and less like I'm leaving, and more like I’m already gone. My reflections feel less to be emotional and more to be purely practical. I don’t feel sadness at all, only pure excitement.
I feel for Selen though, because I know she’s feeling all that sadness that I went through.
I am all about redistributing my stuff and getting my inner affairs in order. The emotions seem to be chill. It makes these reflections feel hollow because I created an intention and expectation that they would be filled with emotion, but my emotional state feels just ‘good and fine’.
Had a nice Berlin night yesterday. Saw Metropolis with a live orchestra, and it helped me realise how redundant speech can be. Hard for someone who writes to accept such a thing, but I’m convinced.
As with stuff, so with language. Less is more.
Round two
OK, two in a day. Managed to have a reasonable distribution between enjoying and doing. But the interesting thing for today is all about my relationship to home.
I’m going back to Australia after the better part of living away for six years, and when I ask my parents if I can stay with them they say ‘yes, but only for three nights’.
This isn’t a big deal in the material scheme of things, I have other places to stay, but when I thought about it more, I started to get sad as I thought of my parents as intolerant. Maybe our culture is to blame, but I can think of nobody with a good relationship with their parents who is welcome in such limited blocks of time.
This root of ‘not being comfortable at home’ defined most of my childhood and I see how it has continued to create ripples in my present day enjoyment of life at home as well.
Home is a place you go, to and from, but you’re not supposed to be comfortable there. How fucking insane is that?
20 August 2024
Officially deregistered. There is an unreasonable excitement that comes with going against the grain in that regard. While everyone else is trying to get themselves into the anmeldung system that rules Berlin, I am trying to get myself out!
Today I did a little baggage weight testing and it’s possible that I’m near 30kg. That would suck.
My heart isn’t in the entry tonight, my ears are too hot from heated discussions. Also it’s tough to find comfort AND light.
Whatever, tonight the emotions aren’t taking the pen so easy and the penmanship is atrocious. Try again tomorrow.
26 August 2024
The Departure Diaries were derailed. Not to worry, there’s been an absolute buttload of emotional turbulence to be recalled, and it’s fresh enough that I feel confident not too much was lost. I’ll try to reconstruct it chronologically:
21 August: farewell at my regular coffee shop. Wet eyes, big hugs, a mixture of excitement (‘no more living in junkie heartland’) and sadness (‘no more easy chats with friendly strangers in the café’). A farewell with a good friend and the final evening together with Selen. More wet eyes, big hugs, and intense emotions. As good as no sleep after packing excitement and an early alarm.
22 August: overpacked by 8kgs, got the all clear to fly with +4kg but had to lose even more stuff. Deeply grateful that Selen joined me. I reorganised my bags and of course I put my pocket knife in my carry-on. Lost that too – +1 in the Gratitude For Selen column, as she was there to save it.
Lots of emotions. Quick call with mum to clear out all the last little bits of not-quite-expressed emotions before the flight. Empty seat next to me, great win - 5 easy hours. Into Doha, very tired - 4 boring hours. Onto the next flight. Another empty seat next to me. 3 easy hours, 2 tricky hours, 4 miserable hours, 3 reasonable hours, 2 fugue-state hours. Somewhere in there I made it into the next day, so let’s get that cleared up
23 August: less than 30 minutes from airplane exit to clearing customs. The weather is wet but not cold. My eyes are like fire. I have a lovely reunion with my brother and niece and, later, sister-in-law and nephew. Weird feelings come in waves: relief, excitement, dread, uncertainty, homeness, foreignness, joy, tiredness, and these have been cycling since then.
The purpose of these entries was to detail the journey up till arrival, and I’ve arrived. I have the internal desire to keep the reflections ongoing, but they will be better served in another form.
Creating a small window in time, and these sections of space, to allow this turbulent roller coaster to be expressed has been greatly beneficial. Let’s see how it continues to develop, but for now that’s a wrap.
Welcome home.