Gonna Take a Ride on a Big Jet Plane

here it is. My last night in Australia. I have been anxiously awaiting it for months now. And dreading it all the same. The last 12 days out in the mountains was a struggle like I have never encountered. I fought myself tooth and nail, emotions bubbling up and out and as I seethed and writhed internally, it took it's toll on my body. I was supposed to be out there soaking up the mountain air, meditating on life, relaxing and gathering my spirit to go home. Well, I wouldn't exactly say that was the case. What it was, was back breaking mind blowingly hard work. On so many levels. I've decided to try and reflect a little on it before I bash it all to hell, because I am quite sure I got alot out of it. But even today I feel spent. Shattered. Knackered. etc..I am so weary. barely here, nearly there..somewhere in between. Last night I got the chills and stomach aches and I spent most of the night shivering beneath a blanket on the couch near the toilet with my hot water bottled nestled on my belly. You could say my nerves are a jitter. Seems like even as a little girl, I got these "jitters". Where I uncontrollably shake and shiver, not really from outside chill, but more like inside. I will admit I'm scared. Of what waits for me back "home", of what I'm leaving behind here. This freedom, this amazing opportunity to explore like I never have. As hard as I crave familiar, the adventure girl is clinging to the journey. so not much has changed ya see, still fighting the good fight..within myself. With my self. how silly it seems, yet I can't help it. I want too many things opposing. I want the comforts of home, but the thrill of the unknown. As much as I long for a companion in life, so often times, I just want to be alone. Ah well, so it goes. I guess this is just the way its gonna be. I've been thinking, day dreaming about what kind of life I want to create now. Maybe get a dog. A happy old lab who just wants to sweetly lick my hand, or nap at my feet and go on evening walks. haha, who needs a partner?
I think first things first, the long ride home. gonna take a ride on a big jet plane. 24 hours from now, I will fly through the night, across the Pacific and back in time to arrive in Austin only 3 and a half hours after I depart. Crazy.

Sun Room

The Sun Room

I've grown quite fond of.. All the light beaming in at ungodly hours of the morn, heating up the place making you feel like you're sun baking in the shade. It can be stifling. But I kinda like its warmth and sanctity from the elements, whilst still giving you the feeling of being "out of doors". Open the windows and breezes flow through with ease. A few raindrops falling make for interesting scenery. And the countless planes that seem to dive-bomb over top of you make you hold your breathe in anticipation til the noise dissipates into the distance. My bags have spread out wide for 2 weeks, and now packed again, for the 264th time. I pack. Wednesday morning I'm off again. To the mountains for 10 days of service and relative silence. On the last leg of this incredible journey. It's only starting to sink in that in another 2 weeks I'll be gone from here. It makes me feel funny in my tummy, that thought. Excited, nervous, full of hopes and possibilities that I can't dare to hang on too tightly to. But I do want to go home. And if Austin is the closest thing I've got to it, just a general direction to go in, I think I'll find it soon enough. I have this problem with missing things that I've never even had. I miss indecipherable things. That don't have names or faces. Just, stuff. That's the best I can describe just one of the many of things I am feeling right now.

I don't wanna go either. Parts of me cringe at the thought of not being near this ocean. So wild, full of commotion and deep, dark waters I long to tread in. There hasn't been near enough swimming. And its nearly done now, my last chances for everything. I love to hate this part. But I vow to enjoy it. Every moment. Cherish them. The friends I've made. The places I've seen. I am feeling really lucky right now. Blessed.

Now, on to the next...

Holding

I'm in a holding pattern. Each day I wake with new ambition, but little fruition, as I have not much to do and plenty of time to do it. One more week, then 10 days and I'm home! How weird is THAT? To think on those terms..so far to go, so little time, and yet..as if it is standing still. I am holding..

So much on my mind as I wait. What will I do? How will I do it? Beginning again with nothing. Clean slate. It's hard not to remember the mistakes I've made before. I attempt to make a vow to myself to go quality not quantity this time around. But who's counting? Well you know I am :) But I feel calmer, much less in a hurry to get anything or anywhere. This morning I woke up really early before anyone and took a walk in this charming little neighborhood. I will miss this. Miss it all. The freedom, the way I can take my time and spread out a day by just wandering in the park. How everything looks new because it is to me, and all the little things no one else sees anymore because they're familiar, make my day. Picking up dead flowers and interesting leaves and sticks, I catch people smiling and or laughing at me all the time. What they must think of my strange behavior. As if I care..

On coming back to America, I have to say it doesn't seem as though much has changed for the better. I guess I haven't been gone long enough for that to happen. But its been weird to not be a part of it, as small of a role as I play day to day. At least being there I have some say. Here, its a constant barrage of questions I don't have answers for. It's hard to explain American mentality to an aussie when you don't fully understand it yourself, just that it IS what it is, and it gives me some kind of comfort, as messed up as that is. I surely don't understand how and why they do what they do here. Even after 9 months, I still get floored by the rules and restrictions so different from what I know. Or lack thereof, in some cases.

At any rate, I sit. I wait. catch up on my Showtime sitcoms. Bake sweet treats and look through my pictures. It'll all be over soon. And I will miss this. I know this much.

Dead End

I am spent, in every capacity of the word. My body aches in places I didn't know I had, my mind blown by all the things I have seen and done, and the money's almost gone. It's time to go home. In another few weeks, I'll be stepping back on US soil after a little over 9 months in Oz. When I try to sum it up in my head, it becomes a blur of swirls and colors, textures and shapes. A pixelated version of the big picture. Still processing..what an amazing adventure its been. All the lives I've touched and seen from the outside in, all the doors that swung wide for me as I gallivanted across this land. I truly do feel as though something has been watching over me, for all the luck outs and close calls, the near misses and most of all, the beauty I saw. How many times I've been moved to tears by the sunrise, the gentle giant of an ocean, waves crashing in such a mesmerizing fashion. And the trip to the Red Center proved every bit as breathtaking as I imagined. I have survive things I never thought possible. Remained calm amongst the chaos that is a travelers life. I think I'm done with this. And with fresh perspective, I plan to start anew back in Texas. The timing is right. I should have at least 6 months of comfortable weather to decide how to ride out the brutal summers. Somehow after this, all things that once seemed so big, are now so small. Thank you universe, for allowing me to see so far, so much, so many. For the humbling I so desperately needed. I can walk tall onto that plane going back again to a place I've always called home. Texas, here I come..

I need a reality check..

Check, check, one two. Is this thing on? Where the hell am I? This trip just keeps getting wierder. I am sitting alone on the porch after a night of "work". it began to rain as we closed shop, and I rode my borrowed bike home in the dark,misty cool drops thinking.."Is this really my life?" For now, yes. I arrived "home" to an empty house. My flatmate has moved out. She took the cat and the dryer, and now I am alone for the next 3 weeks til I fly to Melbs to meet my parents. This was not in the plans, needless to say. I know no one in this tiny beach town, where I managed to score a "job" where no one explains anything to me. I am ok with the lack of responsibility, but it's all a little shady..
Melita, my flatmate, after a weekend away with her on again off again truck drivin bloke whom I have colorfully named "The Simon", decided it best that she not stay here because she picked up a guy while I was in Pomona who turned out to be a gold digging pisshead, won't stop ringing her and has called the cops on Simon for threatening him. Kevie, knows where we live. So she moved back to Simon's in a moments notice on Tuesday night. Hmm. My workplace is on a cash collecting mission i.e. Don't ring up anything paid for in cash and just stick it in the drawer...My wages await me every Thursday in an envelope addressed to me with the multi-colored notes that mean virtually nothing to me but food and maybe a little fun for the next week. WAAHHAAT?
Ok, I am ready to come home. I'm sick of the uncertainty, of the inevitable question marks at the end of every thought I have about WHAT I am doing here anymore. I have seen and saw and not much else can be said for it but that it is a crazy world out here in Oz. No one and nothing is what it seems. I suppose I should be happy. I've got a roof over my head, house to myself, Austar at my disposal with all its many music and travel channels. However, the dishwasher has broken down and the lightbulb in my room has burned out, and I can't help but think .."How ironic." I can do nothing as I am living here off the lease and no clue what kind of bulb I need. I suppose tomorrow, in the light of day, I'll venture to inspect the fixture and see what I can do to shed some light on the subject. Not that there's a hardware store anywhere within walking or biking distance that I know of. I think my work ripped me off out of some money, but I have no proof cause I forgot to write down my hours in my own calendar, like I usually do. But $125 for a few days of work at $15/hr just doesn't seem right.*sigh* whatever. At least I get a free meal each time I work, and the food is quite good. Tonight was curry night, and I got the least spicy (my stomach has been queasy lately) Lamb Rogan. No idea what it means, but it was pretty tasty with the remnants of a bottle of red I opened a few nights ago. And with the latest pop artists singing songs to me on the TV, I wait for sleep. It's not coming. Not even the chamomile tea is helping.
I long for company. Good, solid company. Not pissed off two bottles of sparkling, rambling Melita and her relationship woes (I love her, God love her, but geeez), or the people I call my coworkers, who never invite me out for a drink after, which is customary, is it not? I've got no friends. I've got no life. I've got no money to go find a life, and even if I did, there's no place to go in Coolum Beach on a Thursday night afterdark that is anywhere a young lady would or should frequent alone. Well, I've made my bed, and now, I shall lay in it. Until sleep comes. And tomorrow at least there's the beach, if it's not too rainy and cold to venture out that is. Winter in Coolum Beach, Queensland. Yippie. Well, there's always the library.

My thoughts drift to what it will be like to go home. whatever that is. wherever that is. No idea what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I know I want to be back where things make some sense. Shit, who knows, maybe that won't make sense either. Seems everyone I know has gotten married, had a baby, or something equally lifechanging since I left. What's left of my so called life back in Austin? All I can do is hope that it makes more sense than this. I feel like Alice having fallen down a rabbithole, and the EAT ME DRINK ME bits are doing nothing to change a damn thing.
Where the hell AM I?

10 Days in Pomona

My vipassana experience

4am. Dong...dong...dong. out into the cold mountain air. brush your teeth. Splash some water on your sleepy face, trudge up the path to the hall, and settle in for the first of 7 meditation sessions of the day. Time seems to stand still as you sit, perfectly still, cross legged, aching from head to toe. Tiny tingles begin to creep up and around and its all you can do, in the perfect Noble silence, not to scream. Internally, outwardly. painstakingly, you wait. Patiently. persistently. Do not move. Do not fidget. In the darkness of your eyelids you hear the rustle of others' restlessness, and it is of some comfort. But not much. Your mind begins to wander, as the mind does, to such trivial things. What will I eat for breakfast? Stomach rumbles. No don't think about that. Its hours away. The cucabarros haven't even begun to squawk, so you know it is no where even near dawn. Patiently. Persistently. Inside, your body begins to react to the stillness, the darkness. You are aware of every moment as it ticks by. How many more ticks....Dong! dong...ahhh, relief. But wait. First, the chanting.

"Bhavatu...sabbe..mangalam."- May all Beings Be Happy.

This is a typical beginning of the days in the life of a vipassana student. 10 days. No alcohol. No drugs, not so much as a panadol for your headache or in my case, severe menstrual cramps. no ciggys. no meat. Not even dinner besides two pieces of fresh fruit of their choosing at the 5pm tea break. No talking, unless spoken to by the teachers or manager, or even eye contact with anyone. no phones, No Music, no books, no writing utensils or any other such distractions. All alone. In your own head.
Concentrate on your breathing. The sensations that occur between the nostrils, and the area just below the nostrils and above the upper lip. In, out. In, out. I can feel it. Feel my own breathe. Natural breathe. Soft, almost imperceptible, if not for the fact that there is nothing else. But breathe.

HOW did I get here? The story is such that one day walking, walking as I always did along Sunrise Beach every morning since I arrived there, I passed a young man. Our eyes met, locked. Smiled. But did not speak. Listening to music, it was easy to ignore people. In my own little world, sad little world. Walking back, our pathes crossed again. Eyes met. locked. and again, smiled. But my mouth would not move, nor my feet to get close enough for even the obligatory "hello" or "g'day". I thought to myself, "not today. I don't feel like talking. If he wants to talk to me, he'll have to chase me..." and it left my mind. Some time later, the music in my ears stopped and for whatever reason I turned around. There he was, running. After me? I stopped. And as he approached, I noticed he was quite good looking. he smiled, we smiled and he said "You walk slow. I sat down to meditate after passing you, then went for a swim and when I emerged there you were again, the first thing I saw. So I felt compelled to talk to you." He then explained. he had just been to a meditation center in the Blue Mountains. It had helped him. And when he saw me, he thought, " She needs to surrender." And so I did. I know only that his name was James. I named him James Ocean. That afternoon, I applied online to the next available 10 day course in Pomona, about 30 k's outside of Noosa. And a few weeks later, I was on my way to the center.

It was an important time. A time of reckoning. What do I DO? I had been thinking. I did not know. I truly, truly did not know. After traveling on and on, 7 months up the coast of this strange land, searching, searching. And yet, nothing, nothing was coming. No great revelations. No great understanding. Only confusion, sadness, listlessness. Where am I? What am I? oh and always the WHY and HOW, etc..etc. Seemingly endless unanswerable questions. I needed help but did not know where to go or how to find it. I was tired. of searching, looking. and then, I was found. By this strange young man, on the Sunshine coast of Australia on a cold and windy winter's day. I found a way.

During my time at the center many things happened. You notice things when you are unable to speak, unable to communicate. Every sign I saw, I read. every noise I heard, I listened. I was aware. REALLY aware, of everything. And what a struggle! when you are deprived of your own free will to do and go as you please, suddenly life gets real simple. Eat, sleep, meditate. That's IT. Oh but the food. The food was Divine! Every meal was so wholesome. I grew quite fond and accustomed to our morning porridge and stewed spiced dates (or were they prunes?) heaping huge fruit bowl of apples, oranges and banana halves, bowl of yogurt, muesli and oat bran, various breads and spreads. Concoct your own special dish of happiness. And teas! Lemongrass, peppermint, liquorice, green or black. Sometimes a pot of chai if we were lucky. Honey and milk, both soy and cow. A jar filled with linseed laxative (which I made great use of) and a landscape of a beautiful soaring mountain in the background.
Kangaroos lounged and grazed mere inches from you, almost as if you weren't even there, baby joey's peeking out of their mama's pouches if you remained quite still. Butcher birds and magpies singing for a crumb or two, or if they were really cheeky they'd just swoop in and steal a bit of your toast. For lunch, a beautiful medley of lentils, soup or a nut and seed casserole, sprouted mung beans for garnish on salads of beets and black currants, zesty and tangy with citrus notes and garnished with parsley and coriander. Tomatoes with basil and vinaigrette atop colorful greens. Heavenly food. For body and mind.

An hour of rest at noon. take rest. Take Rest. Your only time, to shower, wash or walk the short pathes through the forest surrounds, fenced in. Please stay within the center boundaries. For your own safety they say. I felt like a caged animal. Pacing. Let me out of here, I pleaded silently. And yet I stayed. I pledged to, the day I arrived, and I intended to keep my promise. Everyday I wanted to quit. And then by the end, never wanted it to end as the discourse finished and we all trudged back to our dorms to collapse in a heap of mental exhaustion. 9:30 lights out. And begin again. 4 am. Another day. Another chance to expel the demons we'd been collecting. Over time, we arrange quite a stockpile of sankaras. Reactions, mental conditioning. There was much work to be done.

Funny what solitude and confinement can do to people. I saw some women furviously cleaning, cleaning ANYTHING they could find with a speck of dirt, sweeping the pathes littered with leaves furiously only for the wind to blow them all back again. Didn't matter. Gotta do something, gotta keep busy, gotta stay out of the mind. But this was not the purpose. Me and another girl became known as the "walkers". This had become my escape since arriving in Oz and I put those short little pathes around the center to great use, making lap after lap every morning after breakfast til the bell rang again.

The men and women were separated from day one. We could see them, across the white ropes. On their side of the center. vaguely aware of their presence. But we were too busy fighting our own battles to pay them much mind. We women passed each other on the pathes, diverted our eyes as we brushed past. Each one of us in our own personal hell of silence. But even through the corner of your eye, body language revealed that we were ALL struggling. Going to bat with this or that. Our own mental conditionings to react, to avert the pain or crave the pleasant sensations we all became so used to in our daily lives.

This Will Also Change. Life is an impersonal constantly changing phenomenon. Things rise, and pass away. Rises and passes away. Remain equanimous. Objective. No reaction. Not to pain nor pleasure. This too, shall pass.

I suffered through the aches and pains my body dished out, between fleeting moments of pleasant vibrations and sensations. Feelings of elation and then pain again. One hour. Two hours. Don't move. Just sit. And observe. Don't become attached to the pleasure, don't react to the pain. Just observe. This is what a good meditator does. Detach yourself from "me" "I" "mine". say to yourself "Let me see how long this will last.." This will help you. Learn to look at life as such: the impersonal, constantly changing phenomenon.

On day 6, I lost my shit. In the hall, during one of our sits of Determination. You are not to move, not to change your posture, no matter how painful, for one hour. I was in agony. My hips and thighs burned and ached with such force, such fierce, piercing pain. The tears came and began slowly trailing down my cheeks. I wept silently, so as not to disturb anyone else in the hall. In my head, the Coldplay song "And tears streamed, down your face, and you were something I could not replace.." Later on during the discourse, Goenka stated that day 6 is the hardest day. A day many people quit. But I could not. I was determined. Stay.

So many times during that 10 days did I think of the people I love, loved, lost. New and old. daydreamed of times to come and remembered things I hadn't thought of in years. Thought of what now to do..and I realized, with less shame how much I missed "home". Missed my people. My places. And that it was ok. That perhaps, my work here, out on the other side of the universe practically from everything I know, is nearing a close. Time to go back to the place and people I love, and begin again. Be Happy.

Now back in the real world, I feel lighter in heart, mind and body (I lost 2 kilos in there). My tolerance and compassion have grown exponentially. For the first time, in a long, long time, I feel FREE. FEEL free, when I have been all along, but locked in my own mind, my own personal reactionary hell from all the times I suppressed this or didn't deal with that. We all do it, doing it all the time. And according to vipassana technique, the only way to eradicate the suffering is to experience the Truth inside the workings of your own body. If you can sit with your pain and pleasure and not react to it, amazingly, you begin to feel strong enough to apply that discipline to the rest of your life. sit with it. But Stay out of the Cage. This too, shall pass.

Onward and Upward my people. Quite literally in fact. It seems there may be work available for me at Cape Tribulation following my 2 week excursion with my folks come September. So it looks like I may not be coming right home after all..:) Until then I reside in Coolum Beach with Trombello the lion cat and Melita, my sweetie flatmate. It's good to be "home". What's that saying..Home is where the heart is. I'm glad I found mine again. I feel ready to love again. I think I might be. Yes. Happiness.

Random

Seems to be the theme as I truck on through. Travel weary, lost and confused as I ever was and seemingly getting worse by the day. I keep meeting people and hoping they have something important to say to me, to send me off in direction. And often they do. A random strange boy chased me down the beach to tell me about vipassana, a 10 day silent meditation practice that is supposed to be used to ease suffering and to see things as they really are. Well shit, SIGN ME UP! I need so desperately to see things as they really are, because nothing feels real to me anymore. Have I lost touch with reality? Or simply been traveling for too long..I was lost when I arrived here, but feel myself drifting even further..maybe though, just maybe I am drifting closer to who I REALLY am, not who I thought I was. With great hope and a bit of desperation, I will try and try again. A job fell in my lap as well, and while I am dissapointed I wasnt able to find something that is different than anything I have ever done, I am grateful for the opportunity to make some fairly easy money and sustain myself until I figure what then to do.

Lately I have been thinking about coming back to the states pretty seriously. I miss things, alot of things. Things I have always taken for granted and never had a second thought about til I am stranded on a huge island, nestled in between the Indian and the Arctic Ocean, in someone ELSE's country. I miss feeling like I am a part of something, like I belong somewhere. If I ever did feel that, it was in Austin, when I first moved there. It's changed and so have I..maybe too much to come back together again. But once upon a time, I was happy there. I remember that. I will try not to forget that and when I find it again, maybe this time it'll be for good. Buy that house, plant that garden, grow some roots. COMMIT. Perhaps I am ready for the next step. I hope 10 days of silence sheds some light on it.