... These are just a few of the events that my little over 2 consecutive weeks in the bush consisted of. And, I loved every second of it.
On my journey, I had a lot of time to think, read, and write. I found myself often frustrated with my all-too apparent inability to stop ruminating on my past, on the difficult moments that had brought me to these beautiful ones, and went through an arduous process of tears, bursts of laughter at how ridiculous I am, and inner conflict, to come to a place of accepting what my walking was trying to teach me:
How to be alone physically, mentally, emotionally, auditorally, and how to still go on living with oneself after you discover what is lurking in the recesses of your mind.
Journal entry 3.13.15
"Oh, my aching heart. Is there any one person's life that has turned out the way they planned? If there is, I should like to meet this person and ask them their secret. Did they take risks? Have they ever truly loved? Have they loved multiplicities at once? Both earth spaces and belief systems and people and partners? Do they regret always having life work in their favour? I have, oh so many questions for this hypothetical individual, who we all seem to want to be - and yet, if our lives truly did go as planned, would we all not be yearning for a little spontaneity? A little pain? A little surprise...
Allowing shopping sprees and straight A's, praise from everyone but myself, to get in the way of my most important priorities. My most important people. Caking my face in makeup each day, to reach what? Some fantastical point I could never achieve.
Isn't that the funny thing? Achievement is all relative. When you're living life as a perfectionist, you never allow yourself to achieve. Because that would mean you did something right! That you came to the end of the line on that matter. And when you're addicted to putting yourself down - patting yourself on the back and relaxing after a long day... Just doesn't happen.
Sometimes I can't help by feel that it would be nice, if when I arrived at the darkest corners of my mind, I found happiness or joy. I guess I am compartmentalizing my brain a bit too much... It is all just swirling around in there together. I have simply mastered the art of taking off in the opposite direction when I come across thoughts that are too much to bear.
Laying in my tent in the crisp, cool, evening air, breathing in serenity and silence, the only sounds being the bubbling of the Greenstone River not a few meters from my site, the tip-tap of extraneous water from our afternoon rain shower, pittering on the mesh of my tent, sometimes splattering the ink - creating picturesque art over my words... A large beech tree looms overhead, home to birds whose singing will wake me with a smile in the morning, and mosses and ferns sprouting happily around. Great mountains full of ranges I am about to climb, stand as sentinels in the distance, the closer ones vibrant green with their lush forests, as the further the forests go, they become enveloped by grey and purple rain clouds, casting a beautiful, dark shadow over the giants, as they become silhouettes.
My hands are covered in bites from sandflies, as my novel "Tracks" has been too intriguing to put down and I forget to wiggle my fingers. Silence. Silence is the reason I came into the bush this time for over 2 weeks.
Now, as I soak in my spectacular, silent, surroundings, I take a few deep breaths to relax my jaw of the tension that just thinking about my stresses back home brings, and I thank the Earth for helping me along my path, supporting me on my journey to this land, and breathing hope into me, for this future I am currently sitting in, when I had none.
... And so, with all of that, why is it that my past would even cross my mind into a hypothetical future, if it means this spectacular moment would never exist? I am so desperately in love, with New Zealand.
If everything in my life had gone according to "plan," would I have come to New Zealand? Possibly... But not like this, no.
Not the type of experience where I sink my toes into the moist, healthy, healing soil rich in nutrients and bursting with life - daily. Not the experience where I fall asleep for weeks on end to the sound of waterfalls, or rivers, or creeks, wind whispering "goodnight" to the beech and ponga trees overhead, Kiwi's prancing in the open fields at night, calling out to one another over and over and over again. Not the experience where I would literally own one of every item of clothing - and one is plenty enough. Where I haven't seen my eyes caked in black makeup and powdered concealer to hide who I truly am, for nearly 2 months now. Where I decide where I go, what I do, what I eat, who I acquaint with, what I read, watch, write, think of, say, dance, believe and breathe. Not the type of experience where I am discovering for myself what the God Energy is to me. Where I am learning how to listen, how to follow intuition, how to respect the land, animals, people, and in turn watch Karma present herself, as they respect me. Where I see miracles on the daily, of weather enabling me to see for miles, feet accelerated in healing to enable me to walk, people, friends, bright shining stars being placed in my way, just exactly when I need them most. And through all of this karma or luck or blessing or protection or chance or energy... Whatever it is, I decide what it means to me. I thank the twinkling night sky with constellations I am not accustom, teaching me, yet again, that nothing is for sure, nothing is forever, and how beautiful that is - that universal failure and universal success, does not exist. I get to look up at this night sky, and thank the God Energy that looks down from above, and realize that I am a tiny speck in this Universe, just another consciousness, drifting above, and that is all I need to be.
I wouldn't have the experience where I am learning how to do things on my own... Everything on my own, in fact. I saved up money on my own, (I am also SO grateful to the many generous souls in my life who helped me take off on this journey, in so many different ways.) I fly around on my own, hitchhike on my own, buy food on my own, make sandwiches or soup for every meal (since I despise cooking,) decide where I sleep on my own, and sleep alone, I walk alone, cry alone, read alone, laugh alone, decide where to spend my hard-earned money alone, decide where I end up next alone, experience everything I am seeing - alone.
I am quickly learning, that I. AM. ENOUGH. As is. I don't need to change myself into who I perceive someone wants me to be - or who someone says they want me to be - to be loved. I also do not need someone else loving me, in order to love myself. I am capable of so much more love for myself than I ever knew.
I am so grateful for all the Earth is teaching me, through the laughter, tears, pain and ecstasy along the way.
I will write more on the Mavora Walkway and Routeburn tracks on a later date, sleep awaits me.
Xx Rach