April was kind of a bitter-sweet month for me.
One chapter ended to be met with much relief and another started as a stepping stone for the rest of my life. I saw my sister who I haven’t seen in almost two years along with my family and friends back in Croatia who I always enjoy spending time with, spent two days with my best friend from Sydney in London (did this really happen? Time passed by too quickly), visited Ljubljana twice and made some new friends there, watched the magic of Lisa Nichols live in action and boy, was she as inspiring in reality as she is on YouTube and I even managed to find a new home and move there.
April’s bitter end isn’t really worth dwelling too much on as I’ve opted to see the brighter side to the situation and am thankful for it’s occurrence. You can’t build a heaven surrounded by hell. But hey, one person’s hell is another person’s heaven so each to their own I guess.
When I was younger I used to journal a lot about everything, I believe it’s how I survived my teenage years. These days, not so much, not in that kind of detail. While away in Croatia last month, I was flicking through my wardrobe and found an old journal from when I first moved my life over from Sydney. I always thought it may have been too early to read my thoughts to reflect on but a lot can happen in two years and a lot did happen in two years.
I sat on my little sister’s bed and dissected the sentences. I was so confused, vulnerable yet unapologetic for my choices. My main focus through the move was to figure out a way to be happy away from my comfort zone. “I just want to be happy,” one line read, “I’m looking for happiness,” read another. The theme repeated itself several times throughout the first three months of 2014. It was the one line that could have been interpreted as selfish if any of my cousins read my journal. How could I have not been happy in good old sunny Sydney? I had an amazing home, great friends, social life and income. What more did I want? I wanted nothing more than to feel connected to the city that I lived in. Sydney provided me with no such connection (I hated living in Sydney- I only loved my dog).
London doesn’t either. Anyone who lives here knows about the soulless rhythm of the city, it’s a lot of fun sure but it’s also a lot of work. Constant work plus a lot of bullshit people. Finding actual real people in London is part of the grind of this city, or have I just spent too long around the wrong people? It was interesting to read Jess of The Travelista blog also contemplating the reasons why she no longer loved living in London anymore. During my first visit to Ljubljana last month, I almost had an anxiety attack at the thought of having to go back to London- it was an anxiety attack I had to look deeper into. Am I over the allure of London?
London was never forever, it was only a foot in the door. It was only the mover and shaker of my soul while I sorted out my quarter-life malaise- where else but London does one really test the strength of their being? I always tell my family and friends that London isn’t life, London is a lesson.
For the past two years, close friends have asked, “Where to after London?” I never had an answer because I didn’t see the next phase in my life. After landing in the cornfields of Slavonia last month and feeling home hit my heart, it all became more clear. It won’t happen over night, but it will happen.
My mother’s final words to me in January 2014 before she left to go back to Sydney were, “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve with all this but I hope that you find what you are looking for.” I didn’t really have an answer for her back then but looking back, such a remark didn’t require an answer. The point of all this was to never stop looking for the next best thing. My journey has become my fuel.
Wishing you a fantastic May x