The End

In the immortal words of the doors, this is the end. While I am sitting in LAX and waiting for yet another flight, my trip is all but over. There are no more beaches, no more drinks and frivolity and no more dancing. No more ruins, (thank God) and no more ‘so cheap, it’s almost free.’ You don’t get to be away for three months without being somewhat reflective. This is not news to any of you that have been painstakingly reading about my setbacks, failures and growth spurts over the last three months. I’ve written these things for not really any other reason to get the shit outside of my own head. I’ve found that writing about it is a very definitive way of processing, moving on but most of all accepting the thoughts that form after life events.

Normal people don’t publish their inner most analogies, stories, anecdotes or ramblings on the internet but I have worked out that I am not most people. I assume, and hope, that the only people who can be bothered to read these things are the people that already love me warts and all. So it is without little trepidation or editing that my words end up active and online. It was only this morning when I checked the blog stats that I realised I have readers in Russia. Who is reading my trite in Russia? Your guess is as good as mine but I sincerely hope it’s not an English language class studying the everyday life of a ‘typical’ Australian.

Your feedback and encouragement over my blogs has kept me writing them and so it is no one’s fault but your own that these still exist. The question is, will my life continue to grow and change the minute I touch down, or will life resume the same scrambling semblance I left it in? The only way to answer that question is to check if I’ve actually really learned anything or have I just been living once farce to the next since April?

So what have I learnt…

1. That what I think is the scariest thing in the world, probably really isn’t.

This trip I’ve poured myself into a wetsuit with a pounding chest and a real fear that my belly skin would get caught in the zipper on the way up and I survived. I put myself down a six metre ladder and into a cave that I had to climb out of with a rope. I swam past the jaws of the biggest fish in the world and I told a boy that I liked him. All firsts and all things I thought I would have rather died than ever do. But I survived them all. With a muttered ‘Fuck it’ before every single event, I threw myself in feet first and hoped for the best. None of them were going to kill me but I wouldn’t have taken the risk had I been sitting on my couch in The Gap. I still didn’t ride the big, scary roller coaster, but there’s no point being stupid is there?

2. People are generally good.

I travelled alone for most of the trip which meant I relied on the kindness of strangers almost everyday. For a long while I thought that my own company was it. That I was going to learn to like spending time with me, and I was going to learn it the hard way. But the universe has a very funny way of picking you up when you are just about to lose your own shit. The Texas Gang from New Orleans, The Hot Ladies, Caitlyn, Gail and Glenn in Montreal, Megs in Quebec, my Merry Mexicans and all of the chance and fleeting meetings in-between not only saved my sanity, but gave me a reason to keep on moving. Their kindness, friendship, support, and I am going to put it out there, love – was and is the reason I leave home as often as I do. People are good.

3. I am ok on my own.

As previously stated, sometimes there was a long time between friendly beers. I did spend a lot of time with me and once I got over the initial shock of my own brassiness, I worked out that I’m ok. There were a few key people who reminded me of how much of a rockstar I actually am and that as a human, I’m alright. I’ve never been very big on self proclamations, but I didn’t really think I deserved them before. I have my faults, but not believing I can is no longer one of them. I am not naive enough to think that the self doubt will just disappear because of a couple of fears being conquered. I know that I am going to have to keep doing it, but I am determined to try.

4. You need to look after your feet.

I know after the last three that this sounds trivial but it’s not. I haven’t done such a long trip since my mid 20s and my feet don’t feel like they are in their mid 20s anymore. I have abused them, left them unsheltered and let their skin peel off like a lazy dragon more than once these last few months. I’ve had to pay for them in pain, in foot inserts and in new shoes because I was dead set certain that havaianas were genuinely supportive walking shoes. They are not. But they are closer to that than the heels of the women in Latin America. Their feet must be well and truly fucked.

5. People believe what you put out there

Someone told me on this trip that they didn’t think I could be scared of anything. I obviously laughed loudly and uncontrollably in what was supposed to be something very quiet and personal in a revelation. They were telling me what they liked about me and I howled like a tickled hyena. You know that I am scared of lots of things and sometimes cripplingly so and the idea that someone could think that I wasn’t, was hilarious. But after a big retraction and apology, I realised that they were right. While I’ve been away my motto of ‘Fuck it’ has lived large and I’ve tried incredibly hard not to be scared of anything – particularly what’s in my own head. So like all good things in life – I’m going to fake it till I make it. What’s the worst that could happen if I show my shit to the universe? (Rhetorical question to all of the pragmatists amongst you.)

When I land in Brisbane tomorrow afternoon, the world will not be any different. My bed, my house, my family and friends, will all be as I left them. Work will pick up right where I left it. I am so excited to meet my new babies, see my kids, hug my family and get back into life in general but life won’t be different unless I am. And at the end of my trip, I don’t think I am all that different. I am still me just a little more assured that I like me and that can only mean good things for all of you. Because we are not hibernating this winter. No, we are not. We are going to play netball, we are going to take a weekend trip somewhere cold and yes we can bring the kids. We are going to see things that we otherwise put off because we can’t be bothered and I am going to get in the car and visit the people I say I will. And if you aren’t coming with me… that’s ok too, I reckon I can get there solo.