I shouldn't be here, it's becoming more and more obvious to me as the weeks, days and even the hours, pass. Canberra is not my home. Yes, it's the place I grew up. Yes, it's the place my friends and family live. But that's it. I shouldn't be here.
So, this begs the question of where exactly I should be? I have answered this many times over, "I don't know, I haven't worked it out yet". I need the ocean, I need a rain forest, I need hot summers and a cold winters, I need city lights and over crowded bars, I need friendly people, I need creativity, I need space. Does a place like this even exist? In a way I am a walking contradiction, I like things that are usually opposed to each other, nice clothes and unbrushed hair, for example, and I suppose I want to live in a place that is full of the contradictions I find beautiful in everyday life, too.
All I know for certain is that this place and I, we are a contradiction, but in no way a beautiful one. Whenever I come back to Canberra, even just for short visits, I feel claustrophobic, I go a little mad, I build walls... I stagnate. I feel like this town forces me to be something that I'm not.
My mind keeps wandering south to Melbourne. To neon signs, pints of cold beer, 'round the clock live music, trams. Somewhere creative. Somewhere that feels young. Somewhere with life.
Maybe I'm just going a bit crazy this week because I am acutely aware that it is very close to a year ago that I hopped on a plane and flew to L.A... and now I'm here, just here, living an ordinary life and missing extraordinary things.
Sometimes I feel like travel has been a bit of a pain in the arse. Only because I have travelled and fallen in love with the vagabond lifestyle am I aware that there is more out there. If only I had have just stayed at home, gone to university, settled down with Mr.X and satisfied my wanderlust with weekend trips to Sydney and the South Coast, I could be blissfully happy in a world of foggy ignorance. But instead I looked across the ocean and out to the horizon and curiously wondered what was out there, and shortly after I decided I needed to know for sure. What I found would change my life forever.
It's like someone who has eaten nothing but peanut butter toast their whole life. They're satisfied. They like the toast. It's familiar, it does the jobs and keeps them full. Then one day someone offers that person a gourmet dish, just the smell of it sends Mr.Toast into a fit of excitement and curiosity, when he gets his first mouthful he is awestruck, a mind blowing experience and a celebration of the senses. It tastes amazing, sweet and hot and bold, it's bright and the contrasting textures of the different foods have become nothing less than a display of culinary art, the smell is like nothing he has smelt before, his mouth waters, this is something he never knew he was missing out on...
Coming back to Canberra, and staying, is like being given toast. I don't want toast when I've tasted the culinary masterpiece. I don't want canberra when I've had the world!
I can't give up travelling. Have you heard the saying "a calling is not something you run to, it is something you can not run from"... well that's me and travel. I'm in love with it. It gives me a sense of completion. I've found my passion, even if it is a bit of an inconvenience at times. I wouldn't be without. I ended a long term relationship for travelling. I am studying a profession that will allow me to build my life around it.
It's no secret that I am only here because I feel as though it would be wrong of me to pack my bags and leave. I could pay my debt off anywhere. But a sick dad, ageing grandparents, a bruised but healing relationship with my mother and a it'll-never-be-completely-over-but-we're-not-in-love-affair with Mr.X... If these are all the right reasons to stay, then why does it feel so wrong to be here?
I can't afford to runaway to foreign lands just yet, and even when I can I will eventually need to come home. When that time comes I'll be in a complete mind-fuck as to where exactly home is? I've lived in the Australian outback, I've lived on the East Coast, I've lived in Tasmania... Am I maybe just a person with homes? Plural.
At the moment I am more excited about the prospect of being homeless, Waking each morning on the door step of a new and undiscovered town. Finding new cafes and coffee shops, new friends, new bars, new short cuts, new customs, new weather, new fashions, new cuisine. Finding a place to call "home" but not knowing how long you'll stay. Trying to educate yourself as how to best navigate the bus/train/ferry system and always seeming to leave a day or two after you have it mastered. Falling in temporary love with strangers who don't speak your language. learning to cook traditional food on the side of the street by a man with just one tooth. Living in differing cars for weeks on end. Showering under waterfalls. Skinny dipping with glow-in-the-dark fish. Eating grass hoppers. Saving as much money as you can each day just for one hopeful night in an actual hotel room. Winding up in hospital and having convinced yourself that you are going to die so it didn't matter whether you could understand what the hell the doctor was saying anyway (yes, that all happened!).
Bob Marley once said "My home is in my head"... but I'm no Bob Marley. I want some place to come back to once my feet are sore and my bones aching.
In all honesty I love being the new kid on the block, It's a huge vanity but always being new means you're always interesting. It's a fresh start in every town. But I don't want to spend my whole life saying 'goodbye'. I guess while I am on my travels I'll have to keep my eyes open for some place that feels like it could be more than a temporary home.
For now though, I guess I'll just sit tight and day dream about the places I can go once this debt of mine is paid off. There's not too much point leaving now if I don't know where to go.
They say home is where the heart is... but if my hearts not here, where is it?
Thanks for reading,
Ash, x
