endings and new beginnings

I had a friend who used to say, "there are no endings, only new beginnings".
As 2009 draws to a close, I take some encouragement in this. I look back over the past year with some sense of achievement.
This time last year we were in Uruguay, planning to reach Ushuaia by the end of January, and then begin our journey north again to wherever we would sell our mobile home and end our mammoth journey.
We still saw some stunning sights, and we met more wonderful people.
At times it felt like we would never achieve these goals but, looking back now, it appears as if it flowed easily from one step to the next, our journey continuing seemingly with a life of its own.
Looking back is always easier than looking forward. I don't know why we humans find it so difficult to trust our forward momentum, when looking back proves repeatedly that life has a way of working itself out in spite of us.
Now I sit in limbo - but it is comfortable here. It is a place of stillness, where nothing seems to be happening.
Today feels like the end of a chapter - but this just means that tomorrow is the beginning of the next one.

Finding the path

I had believed that when I arrived 'home', I would know what to do next.
Now that we have been home for almost 3 months, I feel like I still don't know! But there are some things I have been learning:
1. Frustration and impatience don't change anything
2. Doing nothing doesn't achieve progress
3. Doing something just because you feel like it, rather than because it should help the situation, does achieve progress
4. The most important thing is working out what you want to do - not how you are going to do it
5. The right path is not always the obvious one
For a while I was very impatient - everything I started remained unfinished. Everytime I would launch into a new direction with the idea 'this is it', a barrier would pop up - usually just in time, I now suspect.
The other day, when yet another barrier appeared, I said to my husband:
"If we are heading down a path, and an insurmountable barrier appears, then it must be the wrong path."
Such a simple statement, but instantly the despair and depression connected with our situation dropped away.
Now I'm excited about finding the next markers for the trail through the forest of life.
And it's all about the journey, and not the arriving.

Post travel depression

And I thought I was being original...
Life just sometimes seems too hard. Everything about getting back to 'normal' is just plain difficult.
Then we both started having disturbing dreams and sleep interuptions. Two days ago I came up with the term - post travel depression. Today, just for fun, I googled it and got 16 300 000 results!!!
Does that make it any more real? Do we need some professional help to deal with it? Or do we just keep slugging away in the hope that tomorrow we will emerge from the haze, the house will suddenly be organised and feel more like a 'home', one of us will find some paid work so the possibility of having our own 'home' again won't be disappearing over the horizon.
I think one of the most difficult things is never really finishing anything. There is so much to do that I seem to get halfway through something and leave it to attend to something more urgent - and days later, it is still half done! As is whatever distracted me from it in the first place.
I used to be so organised - I used to be a lot of things, but travel changes everything.
And the thing it changes most of all is this seemingly never-ending process of returning 'home'.

global warming and asylum seekers

Slowly it is dawning on me, how protected from the world of politics and people's opinions we were, as we travelled for such a long time in countries where English wasn't the first language. We didn't have television. We didn't buy newspapers. And our time on the Internet was usually spent frantically trying to catch up with news of friends and family and keeping our web page as up to date as possible.
But now we are back to reality, and I am almost wishing for the quiet oblivion we had been experiencing until recently.

Global Warming:
Some simply accept it as an obvious fact, and try to do something about it.
Others cling to the opinion of 'respected scientists', who say it is all a figment of politicians' or environmentalists' imaginations.
And then there are the fence sitters, who won't quite commit to it as a fact, but don't really want to align themselves with the refuters.
These last seem to be most concerned about the money that will be 'lost' by the big polluters of the business world, if measures are put into place to combat it.
My question: How can we afford to ignore/deny it, if it means that our children's future is in jeopardy?

Asylum Seekers:
...or illegal immigrants!!!
The 'boat people' load themselves and their beloved children onto a leaky fishing boat and travel across a dangerous ocean to seek asylum in our country.
Some label them 'queue jumpers', 'illegal immigrants', 'potential terrorists' or worse.
My questions: Why would someone undertake such a potentially-doomed excursion if there was a local queue to join? Why would someone risk their life, and the lives of the people most precious to them, if there were any other options available. Why would someone choose this route if they were not desperate?

These two issues are very swiftly becoming 'political footballs'.

All children are entitled to more humanitarian, and less political, consideration.

Dying

Death is strangely unknown but very familiar. It is a transition from life, as we know it, to... well, despite claims to the contrary, I don't think anyone really knows.
I returned to find that one of my friends has lung cancer. In the few weeks we have been here, her decline has been rapid. I saw her a few times at our local cafe for Saturday morning breakfast, and then suddenly she was in hospital - and probably not coming out.
This brought up all my fears about death - never the actual fact of it, but just that it would happen too soon. "I'm not ready to die - I still have too much to do."
Last Saturday I visited my friend in hospital. I went with quite a bit of trepidation. My experience there brought with it a sense of gratitude for the privelege of sharing this important time with her. She was so calm and present. And the process of dying was happening before my eyes.
People say that death is strange because one minute the person is there and the next they are not. I felt as though she was with us but also on her way.
I won't see Netty again. She has little time left and it is for her family. I wish her well on her journey and thank her for allowing me to share a part of it with her.

Moving Stuff

Moving!!! Oh! what joy!
It wasn't difficult to find a place - it is a freshly renovated duplex just a short walk from the beach and a lake. It will be the first time in my life that I have lived walking distance to the ocean, and I'm looking forward to that.
It wasn't difficult to make the application - although we had anticipated it would be, since we have no rental history between us. But some good friends acted as referees and the deal was sealed.

Then the fun began:
I don't remember ever being so physically sore and exhausted since...
Oh! I remember - since we packed up our life into the storage shed and went travelling. My husband commented that it is not surprising because he considered that everything probably still weighs the same now as then - if you discount the small amount that fed cockroaches in the interim.
Well, I could probably do with the exercise anyway.

But I didn't need things like:
The supposedly functioning dishwasher spewing water all over the house, when I decided to give some smeary glasses a rinse, and foolishly turned my back for 10 minutes.
Our brand new fridge is delivered and it is just 2 centimetres tall for the space provided in the kitchen.
The variety of plumbing that leaks in impossible places.

With all that said, it is kind of fun to unpack boxes and suddenly exclaim,
"I didn't know we kept that",
"I don't remember that", or,
"Why on earth did we keep that?"

And all the excuses we can find to go shopping...
...for all the things we didn't keep and now need.

being 'home' means...

1. being 'home' means going to MY hairdresser and being absolutely happy with the result - rather than walking into the only place I can find, explaining what I think I want, in a language that I am not fluent in, and feeling like screaming when I leave

2. being 'home' means seeing MY chiropractor and feeling totally at ease even when the gown falls away and exposes a large part of my mammary anatomy - instead of not being able to even find a chiropractor, or if I do they use such a strange technique that relaxing was never a possibility

3. being 'home' means walking into the bottle shop and being greeted warmly by the proprietor who suddenly noticed that we had indeed been missing for more than 3 years

4. being 'home' means going to the coffee shop, and being spoken to by the owner who asks about our trip and what it is like 'being home'

BUT,
5. being 'home' means having to find a new GP because the one I assumed would be there has had her own health problems and decided to retire

6. being 'home' means not having a home that we own and having to brave the rental market

7. being 'home' means standing at the open door of our storage unit and not knowing where to start

8. being 'home' means.......
I have absolutely no idea what to do next.

'home'

We had a plan. It was a simple plan. It was a plan that would take us on the journey to end our journey and bring us 'home'. We were asked continually what our plans were for when we arrived 'home' - the answer was always the same, "We don't know, but we will work it out when we get there".
THE PLAN
1. sell our camper - managed quite easily in Chile
2. spend a couple of months in Germany, visiting friends and family and places - completed with much pleasure in the process
3. visit old friends living in Istanbul and see something of Turkey - fell in love with the little we saw of Turkey and had a great time with our friends
4. visit Kuala Lumpur and shop for clothes - arrived during sale time and happily snapped up some bargains
5. arrive in Sydney and buy a car - arrived on August 2 and bought a vehicle on August 4
6. visit family and friends in South Australia - spent longer than anticipated but seemed almost shorter than necessary, but a feeling of relief when it was over
7. go 'home'

So here we are, 'home'. And now the next part of our lives is supposed to miraculously appear before us. Well, it has only been 4 days yet.

family

Returning to the bosom of your family is an experience fraught with expectations and reality checks. My parents are older and their mortality (and mine as well) stares me right in the face. But does this make me more tolerant of their idiosyncrasies - or am I still carrying the baggage of a somewhat disappointed childhood. The answer is, some of each!
At the other end of the spectrum that is life, are my gorgeous little nieces - Ruby is 5 and now at school every day, and Nellie and Tilly are 4 and can't wait to join her. They have SO much joy in just living each day, that to spend time in their precious company can be somewhat overwhelming - especially when one hasn't seen them for three and a half years, as Juergen is experiencing.
And in between there are brothers and sisters who are making their way through what is generally taken for a normal existence. Working for their families and now for themselves - for the house and the car and good food on the table and maybe a full retirement doing all the things they don't have the time for now.
There are also adult nieces and nephews who are growing into an independent life. For the lucky ones, who have discovered their passion, it is relatively smooth sailing. But for the ones who are still searching there is evidence of frustration, lack of understanding of what is actually going on, and sometimes unhappiness for no explicable reason.
And I love them all simply because they are...

seeing Australia through new eyes

In 2005 we started planning a long journey from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. In March 2006 we embarked. In May 2009 we began the process of coming home - and it's not over yet!
We arrived in Sydney 2 weeks ago, and then left last Friday to drive to South Australia to visit family and friends. I observed some interesting reactions in myself during this drive

• I am so in love with my country that it makes my heart pound
• Gum trees really do look much better here - even though one can find them in almost every country we visited
• Pink and Grey Galas and Sulphur-Crested Cockatoos are magnificent creatures, and their rather loud squawking can sometimes sound like a song of welcome
• I will still want to leave again