Home, The Known & the relief of leaving it all.

What waits beyond the world you know?

I came home about a month ago. For the first time in two years, I stepped foot off the plane with not a clue of how long I would be staying. Since leaving to travel, home (the original, my heart has since found room for many more) has become a place of transit. A week to pass through, share a few quick hellos and goodbyes, swap the long sleeves for short or vice versa and I would be off again. It was enough to appreciate what I missed, and miss what I had since discovered - the vast scope of the world and how little I knew in comparison.

Upon returning, I always note how slowly time seems to tick here. When I walk through the front door, everything sits as it always has, an artisan coat rack overwhelmed by bags, running vests and other things that are not coats to the left and a bookshelf of op shop literary wonders, read once and forgotten, collecting dust on the right. This home has always been a house of disarray, the hobbies of my parents and my childhood on display, among strange trinkets and other mis-matched goods. It is lived in, undoubtedly. Sure, the puppy grew a little bigger and the table now has place mats, but at the core of it all, it’s as if time has stood still.

In my room, the air is bittersweet, it makes me ponder the strangeness of it all; these streets pave my memories, these walls have watched me grow but every time I come back, I can’t help but think,

I am so fucking glad I left. 

Notions of ‘if you love me, let me go’ are spread across all facets of media, so much to the point where I can no longer take it seriously. Nevertheless, I find it very applicable in the situation of growth in homely places.

My childhood was rolling hills and freshwater creeks and communities of support from my parent’s green thumb, joint puffing friends. It was peace and love, man, literally. Home was a haven and I loved it but prior to leaving, I found myself with A LOT of pent up frustration for no particular reason with and no where to direct it.

In my second year out of high school, I spent all of my time working between three jobs, climbing at an indoor bouldering gym, unable to surpass V5 or with my then boyfriend whom I shared virtually no aspirations with. I just felt stuck. I knew I wanted to travel, but I had no idea where. My head was a constant flurry of plans, all of which seemed too big to action and too complex to begin. Each night I would spend hours doom scrolling to the pits of social media. There was a whole world out there, I saw it through the phone screen, opportunities waiting to be grasped but they felt so out of reach. It was a detrimental routine of self sabotage. The saturated colours couldn’t cut through the darkness, I was shrinking but I was torn. Everything I loved was here: my family, my friends, my dogs. And as blasé as the routine was, it held the strange comfort of familiarity.

I think now of how grateful I am to have let it all go. To have quit the jobs, packed the bag, recognised where the relationship should end and left my mediocre bouldering skills to decline was the greatest act of care I could have shown myself.

I notice it when I return to see the same cars on the road, faces in the streets and bodies in motion the way they have been for years. The lull of monotony. I say this not to discredit these lifestyles, there is undeniable honour in such stability. But I am young and restless and yearning. Freedom pools at my feet with reflections of possibility, what’s the harm in a little change?

To neglect opportunities of travel for fear and familiarity would be to ignore the most pressing opportunities for growth. So I left, love and comfort forsaken for the unknown, bought a one way plane ticket to the other side of the world, crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

And the best did come.

A traveller’s watch moves not with the hours, but with the exposure of new experiences. When you find yourself alone in a foreign continent, surrounded by a language you don’t understand, the Earth begins to orbit at ten times its regular speed. Growth in such situations is inevitable. Your mind becomes a vacuum for the unfamiliar, inhaling words, customs, cultures and histories among a whirlpool of strangers. New beds, new faces, new places, everyday is a new day entirely with no room for routine. Here, time cannot stand still, the hands tick over and over, faster and faster as the world continues to expand.

In a little over a year, I’d gone from the unfulfilling grind of Eat, Sleep, Work, Repeat to the feet of Gaudi’s creations, the jungles of Malaysia, ancient Incan villages, New Zealand backcountry, the clubs of Berlin and the death place of Jeanne d’Arc. The monotony of a working day was replaced with weeks of walking on the path to Santiago, days on motorbikes through the mountains of Ha Giang and hours bouncing about the currents around the South East Asian coast; experiences on Earth that had existed long before my Pinterest travel dream board. The world was always out there, waiting. It just took a touch of courage and some savings to understand that it was entirely in reach.

When I read my journal entries from the first few months of travel, my heart cannot help but well with pride. I think of this version of myself, who existed not so long ago but was an entirely different person. To join her again in these great moments of realisation through the messy words and blotted ink fills me with joy. I want to hold her hand as we sift through the thoughts of the then and the unknown and tell her how much is yet to come.

06/12/2023 En Route to Paris!
‘Life, while it still feels surreal has started to melt into my real world reality. It is fun, to be halfway across the world in the homes of people who, only months ago were unimaginable strangers, to race across the French countryside & get drunk on beer in little Spanish bars. It is sweet to realise how limitless this world is… Perhaps my reflections of these travels will teach me things I’ve never considered while being presently here. All in all, I have learnt an unfathomable amount, grown up a little more & feel optimistic about my life ahead…’

'Perhaps my reflections of these travels will teach me things I've never considered while being presently here.' How right I was,

scribbling in my pocket sized notebook, passenger to a French man whom I'd met while walking across a country, driving towards Paris of all places. Life was moving so quickly it was almost unidentifiable, I knew I'd grown and learnt but had no notion of the extent. I would not realise how different I was until I returned home, where time was structured once again, that version of life on pause as I'd left it.

Which brings me back to the relief of the thought, I’m so fucking glad I left.

I don’t know what my life would look like today if I had chosen to stay and for that, I am thankful. I think of this in relation to the butterfly effect. The decision to leave was a catalyst, the flap of a butterfly’s wing, and it changed the direction of everything. 

Perhaps I would have found a similar contentment, a more enjoyable job, a hobby I could excel in and a wider social circle. Maybe somewhere among the endless what if?’s I met peace in the monotony of routine. If I never experienced traveller’s time, then the pace of predictability here might not feel so black and grey. But then I would have never understood what potential waits beyond the borders of the known.

Ultimately, I have decided that The World is limitless, a planet of possibilities, uncapped and ripe and ready for the taking. Our worlds, on the other hand, will only become as big as we let them.

Of course it is okay not to wish for a bigger world, to bask in comfort is a privilege in itself. BUT, for anyone with an inkling of curiosity, I must implore you to embrace it. Buy the ticket, quit the job or just take a break somewhere new. Seek discomfort. Find a corner of Earth that you have not yet experienced, feel it, hear it, soak it all in; listen to the revelations it brings you, hold still within the peace... or the chaos. Forget routine, even for a moment. See what awaits beyond the borders of the known, of your mind, of this life of infinite possibilities.

I don’t know how long I will be home for this time around, though I suspect it will be just a little while. It takes only a second for an idea to spark inspiration and I can feel restlessness creeping into my dreams. For now though, I will enjoy what I have missed in family and friends and dogs and my very own bed. I will walk past the bookshelf and hang my running vest on the coat rack and let time guide me slowly, but i will do so knowing that there is so much unknown waiting for me. And when I get the chance to touch it, when my watch as a traveller begins to tick again,

I will be so fucking glad I left.

Above the Alps of Aotearoa... Leaving.