12/22/2014 3 Comments Liberty.It's been two months today since we left. Almost 9 weeks.
I fell in love in Iceland, with Iceland. The mountain air refreshed and awakened me. I remember feeling so alive there, my heart felt so full of awe and love. That place is pure magic. You feel it, you breathe it. We galavanted among beautiful Scotland for a week, dancing among the whimsical streets of Edinburgh, indulging in shopping and delicious food, then caught our bearings up north in Inverness. We then spent another week in Amsterdam, quickly realizing how vastly overrated it is. The vibe is strange, different among the rest of the places I've been, feeling slightly unsafe, (I hate admitting that) the 'coffee' shops aren't exactly friendly, and the red light district is just absolutely sad. It was on my bucket list (god knows why?) but I wish I hadn't. I was almost in tears. A friend later mentioned that they're not willing prostitutes as you may think, they're sold into it. Sex slavery has always been something I'm strongly against (as I'd think most are)- but I thought if a chic wanted to BE a prostitute, well then, do you, mama. I however couldn't help feel a wave of overwhelming sadness come over me walking down that street. It's desperate. It's lonely. It makes me cringe just thinking about it. The people in Amsterdam are generally not very welcoming. If you aren't dutch, get the hell out of dodge. The biking is awesome. The canal structure of the city is beautiful. It's most definitely a gorgeous city, but it's busy. SO BUSY. TOO BUSY. I love New York City, but I hate Time Square... and low and behold, it's just like TS. I don't regret going, it was just one of those places so hyped that it loses it's spark. I WILL return there one day, I didn't get a chance to see the Van Gogh museum or the Anne Frank house, and also... yeah, it'd be fun to go with a bunch of friends. Seriously though, don't listen to me, go see it for yourself. However, I will tell you this: you can smoke weed at home. Now here we are, in Portugal, where we've spent the past 3 weeks in Porto. I fell into culture shock and quickly jumped back. In the three weeks I've been here, I've gotten to know and become well acquainted with this city. A couple of weeks ago, I was lost amongst the streets and alleys and thought my only way out was to sit on the ground, cry, and hope someone would find me and carry me back to the hostel. Seriously- 100% contemplated doing that. Somehow, some way, I didn't fall and curl up in fetal position sobbing my heart out- instead, frazzled yet determined, I made it back. (I actually had to work and was 45 minutes late for my shift.) BUT I DID IT! I took my first metro all by my lonesome, wandered streets until I found the familiar, and made it back. If you know me at all, that's a huge accomplishment from my anxiety ridden, codependent self. Now, only a couple weeks later, I could make it back from that spot I felt defeated by, in a breeze. I've pushed through more walls and barriers then I ever thought I could in these past two months. Needless to say, this city will now own a special place in my heart. I freed myself more, and let a ton of stuff I've been carrying go. Mel once read me this quote about travelers... How their backpacks get lighter, but their mental weight gets heavier. Something like that. I beg to differ with that quote. My pack has somehow gotten heavier (haha, SOMEHOW)- yet my mind seems lighter. I learned to forgive in Portugal. To let things go. To free myself from the burdens that so heavily weighed me down. I imagine I still have a long way to go, more will surface, more lessons to learn, but damn it feels amazing to unchain myself from that extra baggage. To forgive the people who have hurt me, and no longer let them control me with the anger and heartache I held towards some of them. I started to understand myself the most I've ever been able to, and that is extremely rewarding. I've started to believe in myself, to see my true potential. If you've read my last post, you saw some of the stuff I was dealing with. I'm not trying to sit here and say any of that stuff dissipated over night. I didn't wake up some strong, independent, confident woman. What I'm trying to say is, since this trip began, I'm stronger, more independent and a little bit more confident in myself. There's no chance in hell I wake up each morning feeling fierce, but I wake up each morning and hate myself less and less. I've begun to embrace myself more and more. I understand why I was the way I was, and I'm working towards admiring myself, accepting my worth, and feeling comfortable in my own skin. Since I've started my travels, that's what this whole thing has been about. Some people said I would find my soulmate, some people said I was going JUST to find my soulmate. I'm pleased and proud to say, that's been the last thing on my agenda. In fact, I've pushed any and all opportunities away from me at any given chance. Maybe it's because I'm not ready for it. Maybe it's because I'm over finding some dude at the bar to shamelessly flirt with. Maybe it's because I know I deserve better. Maybe it's because all I really care about right now, is finding love within myself. Whatever the reason may be, I'm not searching for my soulmate. Whomever that might be, we will find each other at the right time. But from the get go, the only thing I ever hoped to find within this trip, was myself. The girl I once thought I had lost. She's in there, and slowly but surely resurfacing again. Years of wounds and scars have pushed her deep down- into a place where she felt unworthy, inadequate. Now I have realized, dammit Mia, you deserve whatever your heart desires. I always used to say I would never call myself a writer, an artist, a photographer... Because while I enjoyed those things, I wasn't good enough to claim the title. But fuck it, I AM a writer. I AM an artist. I AM a photographer. I've spent my life creating, yet hiding behind my timidness, and I'll be damned if I let anyone, including my own self doubt take that from me. Friends and family have spent years telling me I was good at these things, but in my eyes- I was not good enough. Some would ask, "are you a photographer?" and coyly, I would respond, "No, I just really enjoy my camera." STRAIGHT BULLOCKS. The amazing thing about creating anything, with words, with paint, with a camera, is that anything you create, is beautiful, unique, because you're portraying the incredible creations you see in your mind. No work of art is "bad." Even if you somewhat replicate something, it is still different, because a different mind created it. Yes, there is always room for improvement. Yes, we should always aim for outside the box. Yes, there's always going to be naysayers. Yes, there is always someone who will out-do you. But instead of looking at the rest of the world as my competition, instead I will marvel at them, and use that as inspiration, and admiration. As for the naysayers, well, I think most of the stuff anyone could say about me, I've already said myself. The beauty of showing people your wounds. But hey- I'm sure I'm wrong, I'm sure there's a ton more people can come up with, but I'm done suffocating myself in fear from what one person, or one hundred people might have to say or think about me. It's an opinion, it is not fact. The only time people feel the need to speak badly about another human being, is when they feel insufficient. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, medal, cookie, what have you. My dad always told me I gave up on anything that didn't come easy to me. If I wasn't automatically perfect at something, I would give up. I was perpetually afraid of failure. If something didn't come easy, I would throw in the towel and call it quits. He constantly told me to not give up, to keep pushing forward. To practice. That nothing happens overnight. He was right, about everything. I gave up violin, age 9. I gave up dancing, age 11. I gave up any and all sports- my entire life. I gave up on school. I gave up on guitar. I even gave up the things I WAS good at, like writing and taking photos. Once I hit a wall, I would stop thinking there was no way I could possibly get better at these things. If something became difficult, I deemed myself unable to continue trying. I stopped myself from traveling for so long because I was scared of failing. In lieu of this, I stopped myself from living out my dreams. I stopped myself from success. Why was I so terrified to fail? Why would I give up so easily? Because I was scared of anyone noticing. Because fear. God forbid I fell flat on my face and someone saw. God forbid I got laughed at. God forbid someone judged me. Do you really care if I fail? Probably not. If you do, ask yourself why. I'm working on releasing that fear. I'm working on looking failure in the face and saying "Hey, at least I tried." If at the end of the day, no one likes my words, whatever, I will still write. If no one likes my photographs, I will still continue to capture and see the beauty all around me. If no one likes me, well guess what... I still have to be me, I still have to live with myself. I can't run away from that, I'm certainly done trying. Yes, I will fail. Time and time again I will probably stumble. But as long as I pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep on keepin' on, good for me. Honestly, is failure really even failure? I've found myself seeing failure more as NOT doing something, than doing what you wish you could do, and not being perfect at it. The grand thing I've learned in Porto, is that I'm done being fearful of failure. I'm done competing with everyone. I'm done hiding. I'm done living my life comparing myself to the beautiful beings, the talented artists, the intellects, everyone. There is no need for it. I'm okay just the way I am. I can learn from them, admire them, but I don't feel the need to compete with them, with anyone. No one is better, as I am not better than anyone either. Not an ounce. If only we all worked together, helped each other grow, inspired one another, this world would be a much happier and brighter place. If only we stopped comparing ourselves to the person next to us, we would be happier individuals one by one. If only we lifted each other instead of putting one another down, peace would occur within each of us. I am perfect just the way I am. And guess what, so are you. As my end in Porto comes near, I leave you with my little bit of wisdom. We are all good enough. We are all beautiful enough. Talented enough. Smart enough. Once you can free yourself from fear, from worrying about everyone else, whether you see them on a pedestal, or are just downright scared of what they might think, you will be free. If anyone has anything bad to say about you, if anyone wants to judge you, let them. They are wasting their time and energy mirroring their own envy and insecurities. Letting go is one of the most rewarding things you can do. No, I'm not perfect. There will still be times of self doubt, and there will still be times when I compare myself to someone I find more talented than I am. There will be times when I fall down. But I refuse to get discouraged. I refuse to get sidetracked. I refuse to fail. I will reread this post when I feel defeated. I will work on all of this until I come out on the other side, and that in itself- is the key to happiness.
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12/17/2014 9 Comments The Selfie ProjectI decided to take a different approach this post. Writing is my most therapeutic release, and I've been doing a lot of it the past few days, trying to get rid of some of the anger, bitterness, sadness and resentment that I've been carrying. As much as I've began to enjoy releasing some of my most private details of my soul to the public, the writings I've been doing lately I don't quite deem suitable for the public to read. I took a new strategy in my writing, penning letters to all the people who've hurt me in the past, whom I've hurt, the things I haven't been able to let go, and carry deep within me. (Credit to my best friend for the inspiration, we've both been purging our emotions.) The effects have been amazing, but as to protect the people I've written to, as I respect them, and don't want to put them on blast, I'm going to keep that stuff to myself. In fact we're going to burn them all when we're done so we truly can let it all dissipate and leave it all behind when we leave Porto. So, instead of giving you my most private thoughts, I decided to get behind my other calming friend, my camera. I found a bathtub in our garden, and ever since I've been inspired to use it as a prop for some sort of project. They aren't perfect, as don't have a tripod and I couldn't exactly be behind my camera while photographing myself, but I'm excited about them. I tried to portray some of the things that have been burdening me lately. The sadness, the anger, the frustration, the insecurity... A couple of moments I could actually feel the emotions coming out, and that was extremely satisfying. I'm no model, and my clothes are completely wrinkled as we don't carry irons in our packs (hehe) but I do think that some of the photographs truly portray my emotions and it was cool to experiment with that. I'd like to do it again and really focus on getting it all out there, cause I know how beneficial it's been the past few days to release some of this stuff. So much, that I'm finally feeling back to my old self- which is one of the reasons I even had the motivation to pick up my camera again in the first place. (I haven't touched it since we got to Porto.) I'm extremely grateful to be feeling happy again, and even more so, inspired. I hope you enjoy these as much as I do, as they're a little piece of my soul in each one. My favorite favorite favorite thing about photography has always been the fact that you can truly capture a moment of emotion in each photo. Especially when there's a human soul in front of the lens. I've always found that extremely beautiful, that you can see so much of someone in such a small fragment of time. It's why I fell in love with photography, and why I continue to take photos. Enjoy! I'm really proud of the way this turned out :) loneliness insecurity frustration // anger // resentment disappointment sadness self loathing heartbroken chained // manipulated // insufficient discontent // unfulfilled addiction happiness :)
12/14/2014 0 Comments Dawn.As time trickles past me, and the homesickness and lonely feelings come and go, I am reminded back to my very first post- where I had said I couldn't wait to get to know and test myself mentally and spiritually. Here is now and perhaps that is what is finally surfacing. For the past two months, I have definitely explored myself more and more, tested myself, broke boundaries, and surpassed some fears that I didn't even know were in me. Most of those things were a pat on the back, a reminder to take pride in myself and how much I have accomplished in such little time. Yet as I got swept up in my loneliness the other night, I was faced with the most heavy challenge to come thus far, surely not the last. I finally was able to purge some of the feelings I had been hiding within myself for so long, and come face to face with how lonely of a person I truly am and the fact that I push that far away and far down into some sort of subconscious fear of facing my own feelings, the damages and scars that I've buried into a little chest throughout my life. As long as I can remember I've been one of the most sensitive people I've known. Years ago, the littlest things would bring me to tears, so many tears. I was completely dramatic to whatever occurrence in my life, probably aiming to gain some sort of attention from my loved ones. Something was, and still is, missing within me thats been able to nurture my own soul and face my own sadness. That being said, after years of being that sad girl, I somehow stopped crying all the time, and thought I had become callous towards my feelings. Even though I knew they were very much alive, throwing stakes into my own heart, no longer could I release my emotions with tears, I instead would bury them deep within me. In the past couple years, I drowned my misery with whiskey and only then would I wake up the next morning with puffy eyes, turning to my friends for answers, who always had to pick up the pieces of their friend who ungraciously fell apart after too much to drink. That's a sad story, it saddens me to write about it, to think about it, and to face how much misery I was holding inside of me that I couldn't even deal with on a sober level. I eternally love and feel indebted for the ones who through and through stuck by me when I fell apart into complete shambles. I took my sadness out on them, I took my anger out on them. And they forgave me when I still haven't completely forgiven myself.
When I was thrown amidst my loneliness the other day, I had no choice to but to come face to face with myself, and to actually look within myself as to how I felt. The tears came. The tears from the self doubt, the loathing, the bitterness, the scars, the wounds that have been living and breeding inside of me came, and I cried and cried. It was awful and depressing within those moments. It brought me back to memories where I couldn’t leave my bed, where I had forgotten the purpose to life, where I was perpetually angry and sad and feeling pathetic. It brought me back to my darkest days, where I never ever wanted to face those feelings again. It surfaced a lot of the things that I hadn’t truly dealt with in the past few years. The times I had my heart broken, relentlessly. The times I was stepped on, crushed, or betrayed by people I had loved and trusted. The times where I let myself down, by thinking I would never accomplish any of my dreams, and that I was forever doomed by an unhappy life. The times where I had let others down, and hurt them. All the things I hadn’t forgiven myself for. All the things I hadn’t forgiven others for. It all came crashing into me, and then out of me. While I would love to say that a good cry heals everything, it didn’t. The fact is, it surfaced it. It let me know that while I am not healed, I am healing. It brought everything to my attention, and let me know what I need to work on, and where I need to go from here. I woke up the next day, feeling a little less sad, a bit more relieved even. Now, I am clear what I need to work on next in my life. Forgiveness. With forgiveness, I know that I will heal. I know that once I can forgive others, and forgive myself, I can then begin to work on the love that is within myself. I convinced myself for a while that I had no longer been seeking love from outside sources, and while I certainly had begun to work on that, truth be told, I am always seeking love. I am a hopeless romantic, someone who constantly believes time after time, no matter how much I am let down- that true fairy tale whimsical love exists. I just have doubts I will find it, because I am filled with a haze of uncertainty and insecurity that doesn’t let me see the love that’s already inside of me. I fear everyday that I will never find another soul to love me. That I am not good enough, not intelligent enough, not beautiful enough, not creative enough. As one talks to themselves that way, it certainly will be true. From here on out, I need to keep working on that forgiveness, and talking to myself in a kinder way. The other love (the fairytale love) isn’t so much important right now, as the more I search for that, the less I will continue to work on accepting myself, which is a crucial part of my next step on this path. I know now, that I can lean on myself, I can continue to grow, blossom, and love myself for all my flaws, and all my beauties. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither am I. 12/9/2014 0 Comments Slowly unraveling.Previous to our travels, Mel and I talked and gave our hypothesis to where or if we'd get the grand ole thing travelers talk of: culture shock. We both had different guesses, neither of which were right.
In the entry before this, I had mentioned the novelty wearing off. Things weren't getting less exciting, but it's lost that "this is new!" feeling, like when you purchase an item and treasure it so dearly until it ever so often gets thrown around after a while. I still wake up every day extremely grateful. I still am amazed and blown away by some of the places put into my view, or even habitat for a small amount of time. I still 100% love what I'm doing and wouldn't change it for anything. Still, there comes a time when things alter the exciting 'I can take on the world' feeling, and become a bit more heavy or tiresome. Right after we had booked our tickets to Portugal, as I was laying in bed practicing some simple portuguese phrases, and a little voice inside nudged me and told me "this is where you'll get culture shock." Three days here, and it's finally graced my side. It's nothing like I pictured, and I can't quite describe it. Before my travels if you'd have asked if this is what culture shock would be like- I would have said no. I thought it was going to be way more extreme and hard to deal with, but it's just this small feeling of not belonging. Really, even that sounds wrong because that's not very accurate either. Maybe it's just loneliness, maybe it's the small doubts that wash upon me sometimes, or the insecurity and naiveness that I still carry around when walking in foreign places. Maybe it's the homesick feeling I get when I just want to sit in one of our friends living room and catch up on all the things going on in our lives. Skype and texts are cool, but nothing replaces actually being in someone's company who completely accepts you for you. Maybe it's knowing we won't be home for Christmas, for New Years, for one of our oldest friends having her baby. Maybe it's walking into a grocery store and not being able to find milk because NOTHING looks like milk and you can't read anything. Maybe it's accidentally saying "thank you" when you know you should be saying 'obrigada,' and kicking yourself mentally for forgetting and feeling rude. I know it's all completely normal, and just something I have to work through, but it's finally arrived and I'm dealing with it the best I can. Really, it's not that bad. It can be heavy at times, but I'm still enjoying myself and I think that's important. It's when those feelings consume you that maybe it would be harder to deal with. I guess it comes in waves at the moment. Possibly this is just the beginning, possibly I may get consumed by it at a later date. I'm hoping for the former. Luckily, I have my best friend here with me. Through the strange, the lonely, the foreign, the grumpy, the good, the bad, and the ugly- I have this amazing person to lean on when the going gets tough and I couldn't be more grateful for her. It took me 47 days to get culture shock, and 47 days for the reality to hit me. Remember all those times I said to some of you how this didn't feel real before I left!? How I couldn't cry or do anything but smile when all of you hugged me goodbye all sad and happy at the same time!? Okay- it FINALLY feels real. 47 days later. I FINALLY realize that I can't hop in my car, drive to one of your homes and talk for hours with you. I FINALLY realized I won't be home for the holidays, or am going to miss important life events. I FINALLY realized I won't be sleeping in my bed anytime soon, or be able to take a bubble bath. I FINALLY realized that I can't have Tim Hortons or Mighty Taco any time I want (okay maybe actually that happened on day one, hour two.) But seriously though, I'm grateful to even be going through this, because it makes me grateful for all the people and places I have back home that are full of so much love and comfort. It makes me realize how much we took it for granted and how exciting it'll be when we do go home. It also makes me feel grateful to be growing, because I know this is the most uncomfortable I've felt, which means that this is going to push me to grow the most. To the couple people that may fret about me when they read this, please don't! I promise I'm okay, and this is okay- it wouldn't be real if I only wrote about all the amazing stuff, and this also is amazing in itself too! I wouldn't change any of this, and I'll pull out of this a stronger, wiser, more confident girl. Don't feel sorry for me, or waste any time worrying... Cause I assure you it's all good- this is all part of it and I was fully prepared to experience these parts, even a bit excited for it. If anything, I'm extremely lucky, to be facing all these fears and negative feelings and dealing with them mainly on my own. Don't think for a second I'm not okay, just mentally give me a hug and know that I feel it. Nothing is wrong or bad or anything I know you might worry about (seriously mom I'm talking to you!)...but I'm sitting on a balcony in Porto....writing, listening to the beautiful portuguese language and hearing the busy sounds of cars and buses passing by. When I look up I see incredible architecture- some of it decaying (my favorite!) and to my left there's mountains in the distance, and if you know me, you know that's all the things in my dreamiest dreams. And when I stop and take all that in for a minute- I know I'm okay- I know why I'm doing this, and everything else fades away. I feel as if this is the time I need to push myself further. I picture myself sometimes returning to home and wonder if I've changed at all. I don't see it, but at the same I know I've faced a lot and done a lot of things that I would've previously been too scared, too anxious to experience. With that, I know there is bouts of growth I've gone through. Even now, experiencing some culture shock, I know that I'm growing. But I can't stop having this nudging feeling in the pit of my gut telling me to seize more, experience more, grow more. Sometimes I'm hard on myself that I'm not seizing every opportunity, or taking full advantage of my travels. Others I know that there's no "right" or "wrong" way to travel, and that I'm doing the best I can. Sometimes I feel absolutely terrified that I'm here, or thoughts of what I'll do after I return, and start shaking in my boots at the anxiety that burdens me. Others I remind myself that I'm absorbed in an amazing opportunity and I don't need to worry for one moment about the future. Before I left I had these grandeur thoughts of knowing what I wanted to come home and do for the rest of my life. I'm still just as clueless. All I know is that I love sitting somewhere quiet and writing until my hands hurt. I love being behind my lens, focusing on nothing but the dynamics of my camera. I love being on the road exploring new places. I knew that stuff before I had left, but now I truly know how much I love it, and how much I didn't pour myself into it the way I wanted to. There's still some days where I'm kicking myself in the ass to do it more, but inspiration isn't always knocking on my door day after day. Sadly the arts are always starving... actually, as I write this I find myself thinking that the arts aren't starving at all, they are the most fulfilling thing I know, and I can absolutely fill myself up with them for the rest of my time here on earth. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Two days ago I wrote all that. Two days have passed, and the shock has become more and more real, engulfing me into it's pit as I am completely full of heartache and sadness. As the days pass more and more, I feel more alone. I feel like it's just me, sitting beside myself, that I'm a complete outsider looking in, and I'm watching this extremely lonely and sad girl try to figure everything out. That's okay though, I suppose. I will let this loneliness completely swallow me, if it means I feel a bit more whole at the end of this. These moments are weaving in and out. Sometimes I feel okay, that I have everything under control, and then the next I am swimming in a pool of sadness and feel as I'm clutching to strings trying to find my bearings as I delve further and further into this lonely dark box. Depression is an old friend of mine, one I know far too well, and I feel as if I'm asking it so politely to go away. Not right now. Please don't do this to me. Sadly, it's not always so eager to do as you please. It's not always something I've been able to control, although I've been doing a pretty good job the past year of my life. The thing is, with depression, you don't always get to pick and chose when it graces you with it's burden. I know why it's here, and what it's come to do, and surely I think there's a purpose behind why it's beckoning me to let it in. In the past I would've wallowed in my pity and let this darkness take me further. Right now, I'm just trying my hardest to recognize it for what it is, and let it do what it's here to do. From what I'm absorbing, I realize that it's here to let me know that the one person I have to lean on is myself. That this loneliness I feel, can't be substituted from anyone or anything, but the empty feeling I've carried within me for so long. I know exactly why it's here and exactly what it's doing to me. The shitty thing is, it really really sucks and it's really heartbreaking trying to put yourself back together. When you normally would feel alone, it's easy to substitute your feelings by grabbing at your comfort zones. Here, I don't have anything to grab. I feel isolated, extremely sad, and empty. I don't truly feel like I can turn to anyone, because I know that no one will have the answers, or no one will understand. I know this is something that only I can deal with, and that there's nothing else to do except try to sort it out the best I can and try to get through. I've gone up and down in so many moments today. Just when I think I've started to feel better, a wave washes over me to remind me that the loneliness is still very much alive, growing inside of me day after day. Right in this very moment, I wish I could curl up into a dark box, mail myself home, and take a long nap until I'm back in the states. I'm at a loss as I try to sum this up. Obviously this isn't something I can just push aside, as it's something I have to force myself to deal with. I know it shall pass at some point, but right now I feel the heaviest I've felt in a while. Tomorrow hopefully will be better. Tomorrow I will hopefully feel less alone. Tomorrow won't be so bad.. Sorry for such a sad post. 12/3/2014 1 Comment The end of the second chapter.As I sat on a balcony of one of our couch surfers in Amsterdam, I'm hit again with a forceful wave. Surrounding me are little bricks upon bricks making tons of box houses laying atop one another. Everything around me is squares and rectangles and in the middle a small scatter of trees just tall enough to outgrow the house garden surrounding it. My thoughts and lessons ping into every lit window, glowing with a moody yellow light, each window and door peering into these houses is made up of all my little thoughts and teachings, making up their own personality and shining outside of it's foundation made up of all the little bricks. The inlet, where the trees are... Is the peace, the inner spirit. The outer body, where the houses lay, is my mind, trailing with endless thoughts and the riddles and the ego and all the clutter of the outside world. It is at this point, I feel another chapter closing and a new one slowly rumbling up. The past weeks have been madness, constantly moving every couple days, bouts of discomfort, and some of the little struggles and unsettling feelings of being on the road 24-7. The beauty of traveling bears her face just as much with little reminders of what you're doing and why you're doing it. That being said, and as expected, there's always a point where the novelty wears off and you come into a new transition point where you begin again, and renew yourself into a new state of growth.
I wish so much that I could put the past couple weeks into sentences, telling you every detail, every high, every low, all the magic and trickery, all the trails that lead you here and there and the steps, the turns, the paths, the alleys, the vines and branches of unlocked secrets. But that's another cool part, there's no real way to put these moments into words, they're real and raw and each moment rips through you fast, until you get hit with a wave of reality. It's all a giant sling shot, building momentum until moving you into the next direction, the journey following the last. But alas, I will try. We have met so many amazing souls, countless challenges and faced a ton of fears, all teaching us the wisdom of life and the world. I feel so thankful to be doing this, every day, and I feel like a little child again discovering things for the very first time. Like trying to ride your bike without training wheels. Exciting at first, then scary, and fun again. You fall a whole lot but you get back on your bike and try again. My favorite thing about traveling never stays the same. Some days, it's waking up somewhere completely new, completely unexpected. Some days, that's my least favorite thing as I long for the comfort of my own bed. But this is my bed for now, the road, the unknown. I used to visit places and say to myself "I would like to live here someday." And now I tell myself "I am living here, right now, today, even if it's just for a day. This place is for now my home." Some days my favorite thing is all the incredible conversations you have with people, some days I don't want to talk at all, I just want to be alone. The reality is though, that these conversations are the one of the most crucial parts of traveling, one of the many things that unlocks so many parts of yourself and the unknown. To share ideas, or to be opened to new ideas, through others, is a beautiful thing. Being half way across the world, you're constantly meeting people who are either like you, or so completely different from you- but each offering you different knowledge or shining a light on something you’ve never realized before. It’s constantly humbling, because just when you think you’ve got it, or you’re on top- someone, or something, brings you back down to earth. (HOLY MOLY I HAVE SO MUCH TO LEARN!) And just when you’ve hit a low- someone brings you back up on top of that mountain sharing these conversations and revelations. I can’t truly put any of these things into words, because it’s constantly evolving and shifting, as am I. Which brings me to this… something I am continuously learning, and keep coming to the realization of: Nothing extraordinary in this life is tangible. Of course, the people and the architecture and the nature, the beauty surrounding you- that is all spectacular and awe inspiring.. But it is all those poetic feelings flowing through your body, it is all what you feel deep inside, not something you can actually touch with your body, not the things I can put into words, but the things that touch you with their spirit. Those are the best things, the greatest gift one can give and be given. Love. Compassion. Empathy. Wisdom. This is constantly instilled in me by the giving and sharing aspect of traveling. How important it is to share with each other, but the most special things that are shared are sincerity and wisdom and the feelings of being on the same wave length with someone. The connection of all. The togetherness. Traveling is so brilliant because it becomes less and less about where you’re going and the things around you, and more about the people you meet, the spoken words you share, and as I stated… those feelings that freely flow through you and the fact that you never ever ever stop growing. The people that you meet, constantly, are the ones who help you and lead you on this path to growth, because they are the ones who give you those feelings, or share their knowledge, or help you hit a revelation…. Whether you are 10 years old, or 99 years old, we can all learn something from each other, and that is truly something special and grounding. We are all in this together, united by this earth and the human conscious and the ever connectedness of EVERYTHING. I never stop being utterly taken aback at how freaking cool that is, and even though I know it, I keep coming to that same realization every time I notice yet another thing being connected to something else. It is the proof that something grand is among us. Yet again, I wish I could better put this into the written language, but the best I can describe - yet in ONLY one way, is the example of this life being a tree. You start off as a seed, and keep growing from there. You establish your roots, where you came from and what grounds you to this earth. Then you establish branches. Each branch is another path, and there are branches among branches all creating where you are now, guiding your way to the next step… but you always keep growing, and these branches keep sprouting further and further. At the base, you can go back to your roots and always know who you are and where you came from, but it is equally as important to keep these branches going, reaching further into the unknown. Fear, holds us back from this growth. It stunts us and inhibits us from our true potential. Sadly, fear comes in all forms. Fear from money, health, government, our community of people we surround ourselves with, insecurity, jealousy, etc. Fear is a monster that will take the form of almost everything, to fight your spirit from growing. To fight it’s biggest enemy, LOVE. The more you let this fear grow, the less you grow, the more chained you become to all this unnatural anxiety and the more you project your fears onto others, trying to stunt their growth, because it is also something you fear. Day by day, I am working towards freeing myself from all these fears that are living inside of me, or being projected onto me. I know if I can unchain myself, I can truly be free as a bird flying and soaring among this earth. I can give the love inside of me to others, selflessly, all the time. That is my ultimate goal, but until then, I will cherish and embrace the wisdom others offer me, and hopefully give them back some of the love and knowledge inside of me as well. It is with gratitude and love that I grow, that we grow. The hustle and bustle that is the city life was a grand experience. I am always star struck by the long nights and glamorous lights every time, but often I am hypnotized by them and have to remind myself to come back down to earth. I loved Amsterdam, but my favorite parts were not amidst the city, but on a boat along the river, where we stayed with a new friend Paul and his three cats. Waking up and seeing my view on the water, in my temporary home, was what inspired me most. Falling asleep with the lights across the water, casting their brilliance among that perfection that is the water, is truly what brought me back to myself. Knowing and seeing that all was in harmony. It is easy to get distracted in the cities…. There is this force of energy that hits you when these tall buildings are soaking in the energies of all the people walking back and forth on these sidewalks in their own little worlds. It can be equally lovely and draining at the same time, which is kind of wonderful in it’s unique way, because it reminds you to stay grounded in a haze of craziness. So at this moment in time, I sit tending the desk of a beautiful Portuguese hostel in Porto, where we arrived today and will be doing our second workaway experience. It excites me to be in a smaller city, and I feel as if I can take a deep breath again to be staying here for longer than two days, as that was entirely too fast paced, mentally and physically draining for me. However, the two weeks of constant traveling were fun, exciting and enticing, I feel relieved to be able to settle in a little and actually be able to soak myself in the Portuguese culture. I myself found it difficult to be able to take in a culture when constantly moving around from place to place. I had a nice preview of Scotland (I must go back!) and a brief stint in the Netherlands, where I would also like to return, maybe with a few friends for a vacation. It’s strange how everywhere leaves a certain taste in your mouth, a certain imprint on your soul. I know some places I could stay and soak up their vastness for what could be forever, where as other places I know are too busy for me, but would be nice to visit again for shorter amounts of time. Some places completely swipe my heart, and others a piece of them instilled in me, carried around for the rest of my life. Certain places are like ‘bad boys’ stealing your heart for a moment and never giving part of it back to you, and others are like best friends- you know you’ll again pick up exactly where you left off, or a short lived romance that forever changes you, betters you. People and places certainly can give you the exact same feelings. Again… everything is connected. I bid you adieu with my thoughts of gratitude for all the people we’ve met along our travels, and have graced us with their kindness, lessons, or whatever else they may have done to forever change a piece of me. I will always carry a bit of you with me, for every single one of the folks I’ve met along the way, has most certainly altered my view of life in some way. Also, as if she doesn't already know this- I'm constantly thanking my lucky stars for my partner in crime, my travel companion and what I like to reference to our couch surfer requests as my spirit animal-- who bears with me in times of struggle, and balances me out. I think we make a pretty good team, and through all of our frustrations, rough edges, trials and tribulations- at the end of the day there's no one I'd rather travel with. (Something Paul reminded us, and I will continue to cherish as his best advice.) To my people back home, reading this, and constantly giving me their love- I love you and I hope you are all enjoying the holiday season with each other. I wish I could fly home, just to give out hugs and smiles. I also give you my gratitude for being in my life, as I miss you and promise you are always in my thoughts. For each one of you is truly remarkable, and I am so lucky to have you in my life, if even just for a brief period in time. As I type these last sentences, I am almost brought to tears from love. I love all of you so much! I kept joking to Mel that I'd find love in Portugal... and I think I just found it for a moment, at the thought of all of you. Thank you again for always inspiring me. You honestly have no idea. xoxo, mia laurén hall |
Authoron my way around the earth with one run-on sentence at a time. Archives
June 2015
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