2 months and counting until I take off to Australia yet again. I’ve done my fair share of traveling, but I find myself for the 3rd time in my life leaving for the land Down Under for an extended vacay.
Australia became a sort of home, and where I found my hubby, 6 years ago when I got stood up going to California, and decided to take my funds and hop a plane to Brisbane by myself. I was barely 20 and doing something completely outside my comfort zone, purely because it was outside my comfort zone. This was a huge lesson that I sometimes forget, but incessantly have to remind myself: things outside of our everyday selves do nothing but progress us as people. Call me selfish but as you can see, I live my life everyday in the hopes of self-improvement.
Point is, the small and often criticized city of Brisbane became my home for 7 months, and although I got to see Sydney and Melbourne on my next trip a year and a half later, Briz kept me coming back because of friends made, couches to crash on, and being a Cancer, a nest that I could nuzzle into. Now here I am going back to see my hubby’s family for Christmas, deciding to take those 3 weeks and stretch them into 2 months. So the doubts begin.
The fact is, I’m not 20 anymore and regardless of me fighting, kicking and screaming, I DO have responsibilities: a dog, a beautiful apartment, a marriage, a life, and potential careers on the horizon. I have to quit both of my jobs, one of which I absolutely adore, in the hopes that when I get back it will rehire me (no guarantees). I’m preparing myself by taking my WSET in advanced wine studies at the AI which I’m in my second week of in hopes that this will increase my chance of finding work when I get back (no guarantees). But the math just doesn’t add up. Life, living, money, friends, love, it’s all right here for me. And yet I leave for 9 weeks, watch my husband go back home after the 3rd week, miss everyone I love while I’m gone, get home sick (again a Cancer), continue to sleep at my friend’s houses, and generally do a lot of flying by the seat of my pants. I’m lucky to be able to do this, I know, but why am I doing this to myself. I’m not really a sabotoger.
And maybe it really comes down to what I said before. That it’s been a really long time since I’ve stepped outside my comfort zone and done something that gives me the feeling I’m flailing. In my experience, the ground I usually find after that feeling, is ground that gets me into the next phase of my life, and, again, helps me progress. Maybe I should just stop overthinking everything and feel blessed for a low cost 2 month vacation in the hot Australian sun. But the truth is that I can weigh all the pros and cons that I like, but won’t really see which side of the scale wins until the experience is over. Blessings quite often come masked in shapes you would’ve never imagine. Maybe this trip is full of blessings.