Going North

“I love the road, and I’ve been blessed, but I love you best!”
-Caroline, by Brandi Carlile

Guys, I’m coming home! I’ve changed my plane ticket to May 10th, so I’ll be back in about a week and a half! First, let me just say, I’m really excited about this.

But I also feel compelled to explain my reasoning a bit. Which is lame, ‘cause I shouldn’t have to explain a desire to come home after traveling for three and a half months, but because my visa is valid for a year, and because I’ve met so many people who have been on the road for many more months, and some even years, I feel like I should explain.

When I first set out, I told everyone I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, but it’d probably be between six months and a year. The reason I had no idea what the time frame would be was because I had no idea what I was looking for, or where I’d end up, or what I’d be doing. The reality of it is that, as much as I love the road and feel its call pretty constantly, it’s also pretty hard to be packing your bags and moving on every day, especially alone, and I’ve come to really respect people who do it for a living. But my reasons for coming back aren’t based in my travel fatigue, so much as in the following:

1) Money, cost of living and timeframe – Guys, it is WICKED expensive to live in this country. You have to budget 10 to 15 dollars per meal even to just get something small (even a cheeseburger value meal at McDonalds is $8), at least $25 for a paperback book, $2.50 or so for a small candy bar… you get the idea. So just living and paying for food and accommodation will deplete your wallet pretty fast, even WITH the exchange rate (which is going downhill pretty fast), and if you add any activities on to that, well… The long and short of it is that I worked like a dog at two jobs in the States for six months, and that amount of money lasted me three in NZ. I planned on getting a couple of jobs here, and I did, but earning minimum wage is not enough to fund travel. It’s enough to get you food and lodging if you’re working full time, but that’s pretty much it. In order to make enough money to travel around some more I’d have to work like a dog here for another six months, and I’m just not prepared to do that because

2) just like I felt the call out here, I’m now feeling the call home. There are things I’ve wanted to accomplish, and I HAVE done 3/4ths of them (or will by the time I set food in the States again), and there are things I couldn’t have expected, and they’ve changed me. All travel changes you, if you let it, but quests and pilgrimages like this one are especially prone to revelation and rebirth. Because I feel changed, and like I’ve gained a lot from what I’ve done and learned here, I feel like this trip has fulfilled its purpose. It’s as simple as that, and yet I can’t explain exactly what those changes are and exactly what I HAVE learned partly because they are too personal to make real for someone else, and partially because I don’t know yet fully what the end result is or will be.

Does that make sense? Probably not. But if you end up in deep conversation with me when I come back, as I know those of you who I’m closest with most definitely will, I’ll be able to explain a bit better. I’ve had layers of my dragon skin pealed away; I’ve faced several challenges, mental, physical and spiritual, and come out on top; I’ve rediscovered a self that I haven’t seen hide or hair of since I was young, and while I still have a ways to go on one issue that I’m currently dealing with, I feel stronger than I have in years.

But even when I come home, my journey isn’t over. First of all, homecoming is just as much a part of the quest as leaving it. Arnold van Gennep, one of anthropology’s founding fathers, said that any rite of passage or pilgrimage is made up of separation, ordeal and reintegration. So I’ve still got one stage left, at least! Secondly, what a lot of travel will make you realize is that whether you’re in your own country or half-way across the world, there are pilgrimages to make, mountains to climb, things to discover… The fortunate or unfortunate thing about this truth is that it often TAKES a trip to the ends of the earth to realize this. And I think that’s ok, because at least in my case, I always want to see what’s over the next hill, even if it IS just as cool as what’s in my backyard.

Anyway. The gist of all this is that I’m coming home. And I’m excited about it!

I’m excited for late spring/early summer. I’m excited to be in tune with the seasons again. I’m excited for services at St. John’s. I’m excited for high tops, having more than three changes of clothes, having a room of my own to lie down in at night, space to do yoga, cheaper food (especially chocolate!), maple trees, being able to sing at the top of my lungs in my car, driving down the stretch of highway 19 between I35 and Northfield, FREE INTERNET, constant access to a library, hearing Maddie making the whole house loud, bubble baths, sitting and taking with mom and Lance before bed, seeing the sunrise out my East window in the morning and falling asleep in the glow of the streetlight at night, sitting and being slightly frustrated with sitting while listening to Gabe muck around with a guitar, giggling like mad with my sisters when dad says something particularly hilarious, moving my chickens back into the yard for the summer (if they haven’t been moved already!), having more control over what and when I eat and exercise, being able to do laundry WHENEVER I WANT, walking in the arb, biking around with my ipod on, going to the Co-op, being able to talk to people on the phone, going camping with my new tent (I plan to do that a lot this summer!), eating breakfast in the sunny kitchen, ETC ETC

I’m excited. Can you tell? But don’t worry, there will be a long list of things I’ll miss about New Zealand coming soon. And also updates with things like the Fjordlands, Mt. Cook and Kaikoura. :-)

The Moments

“For the pilgrim, the traveler with a deep purpose, this is the moment of truth, when the search for the real takes you to a place that pierces your heart.”

-The Art Of Pilgrimage

These are the moments that have pierced mine:

The afternoon I went hiking in Tongariro National Park, and spent hours sauntering, then running, then climbing through the thickest greenery I’d ever seen. With my green shirt and camo shorts I felt like I became part of the forest, whipping through the trees with my pack light on my shoulders, ears following the sound of trickling streams, eyes pealed for the birds that flew kamikaze fashion across the path in front of me. Every moment was pure joy, every straining muscle was a song of thankfulness, every touch of the plants on my skin as I passed was a blessing.

The moment I walked into the white church in Dannevirke and sat down in a pew, listening to the music and the prayers of the people for the first time in what seemed like ages. I felt so far from home, and yet here, on the other side of the world, my heart recognized a similarity, and for a moment the pain of distance and the comfort of the familiar washed over me and left me unable to stop crying. I spent the whole service in tears, as waves of emotion rolled over me and smashed me into the bedrock of who and what I am; a soul bound in flesh, who aches to shed the barriers of skin and bone and join a greater chorus. It wasn’t sadness, and it wasn’t happiness. It was a coming home.

The day I decided to climb Ben Lomond I faced another layer of what I’ve come to call my “dragon skin.” On the hill up to the start of the path I thought “wow, this is rough. Maybe I won’t go all the way to the top.” On the first few miles of the trail through birch forest, with my Achilles tendons feeling like they were about to snap, I thought “maybe I’ll just go up to the tree line.” After I broke out of the forest and into the sunlight with miniscule snowflakes falling down around me I stopped to marvel, and to have lunch, and thought “maybe I’ll just go back after I’m done eating.” But I didn’t. These negative “I can’t do it” thoughts haunted me all the way up that mountain. Every time I’d get to a point when I had to just stop and breathe, I’d look up and convince myself that I was just going to go a little farther, just to that next hill, just to that next boulder, just to that next turn in the path. Finally I made it to Ben Lomond Saddle, the base of the mountain’s tip, the place I told myself I’d be proud of if I could just make it there. And then I looked up and saw how close the top was, and looked down at my exhausted body, my bruised knees and blistered feet and said “I can’t go back now.” I forced myself up that last precipice, occasionally scaling it with my hands and feet because the boulders and the incline wouldn’t let you up any other way, but up I went. The moment when I finally touched the cairn at the top and looked around, breathless, I felt like time stopped. I’d done it. My heart felt like it might stutter to a halt at any moment, I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, but my mind was flying out over the endless expanse that spread out below me. I threw my fear, my doubt and my pain off the top of that mountain, and I came down clean.

Wander Lonely Through The Woods

Brandi Carlile - Have You Ever

Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods?
And everything there feels just as it should.
You're part of the life there,
You're part of something good;
If you've ever wandered lonely through the woods.

Have you ever stared into a starry sky?
Lying on your back you're asking why
What's the purpose, I wonder who am I;
If you've ever stared into a starry sky.

Have you ever been out walking in the snow?
Tried to get back where you were before,
You always end up not knowing where to go;
If you've ever been out walking in the snow.

If you'd ever been out walking you would know.

Ben Lomond

Just a quick post with pictures from the mountain I climbed yesterday. The memory of doing this is going to stick with me. There were three separate times when I sat down and thought "I don't think I can do this. I think I have to turn around." But I didn't. I got to the top of the highest point in the area. It was a pretty intense experience.

The path up once I broke the treeline. That's Ben Lomond. Ufda.


Got to a bit of a plateau...


There's Queenstown, waaaaaay down there! And here's my typical "I don't know what I should be doing in this picture" face.


Two thirds of the way up, and I've still got the worst part ahead of me:



But I did it! Here's the cairn at the top to prove it!

And here's one of the views from the top. I'll show you more when I get home! :-)

It's A Random Thoughts And Feelings Post!

Written next to a crackling fire in Abel Tasman
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I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow I've stumbled into Neverland. It turns out that it's not a place, it's a state of mind; a feeling of unsettlement; a traveling; a collective mind. This group of half-grown children from numerous countries all share a sense of displacement. We all feel forced from the nursery and into a dusky in-between where we have no solid ground. So we travel, we take a gap year, an overseas experience, a break from real life. We have vague ideas of what we'll do when we get "back home," but even as we say the words we wonder inwardly where home is. Home rings two tones for us, one a call of comfort, the other a clanking of chains. Perhaps it's only us, a priveliged section of humans growing older in a new millenium, but we would rather spend time wondering where the next meal will come from, what the next sunrise will bring, than serve the certainty of a paper-strewn desk. As one colorful bohemian related over the neck of a battered guitar, "I would do anything for money except work." But my university education and knowledge of human nature won't let me naively claim this feeling as my generation's alone. There are too many revolutions and renaissances in the history books that say differently. Surely the youth of the bored French aristocracy felt much as we do, and what does that say about us? But surely the starving artists of 14th century Italy felt these things as well, or we would not see our faces so clearly in their brushstrokes. The question remains, will we live our whole lives in this medial state? Some of us might. And some of us will step through the misty curtain to another world. But this Neverland will always be a part of our story.

Walking
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I do all my best thinking when I'm walking. Hiking through the forest, sometimes out of breath, sometimes sauntering along, listening to music or listening to the birds; it clears out my mind and lets me see clearly. It reminds me of things I already knew, but had forgotten, and it zaps me with insight when I'm most receptive. Soren Kierkegaard said "Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts." Nietzsche said "Never trust a thought that didn't come by walking." I completely agree. Whenever I feel lost, all I have to do is move my feet.

Purpose
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When I was getting ready to come to New Zealand I spent a long time trying to figure out what my motivation was. I read and thought a lot about it, and decided that ultimately I was heading to New Zealand in search of myself, because I felt a call. What I realized in the last week, with the help of some awesome new friends, is that I'm NOT looking for myself. I already AM. That's not the problem. What I really aim to do is to strip away all the things in my past, in my mind, and in my point of view that cover over the core of that being that I am. That's why I've always found the image in C.S. Lewis' 'Dawn Treader' where Aslan rips off Eustace's dragon skin so powerful. I'm covered in that same thick hide, made up of past grievences I couldn't let go, fears I was too afraid to face, and other layers I haven't found out about yet. I've only been in NZ for two and a half months, but already I'm feeling those dead scales peeling away and I'm letting the truth and love of who I am shine through. I'm passing through a fire, here, and I can't wait to see my reflection on the other side.

The West Coast, The Gang, And Queenstown

Wow, it has been WAY too long since I last updated. I feel like a ton has happened, even though it’s only been about a week and a half. Before I start going into the cool stuff that’s happened, I have to introduce a bunch of new characters.

So there’s Meg. She was the one I met first when we shared a room in Abel Tasman. She’s from Ontario, and she’s one of the funniest and most real people I’ve ever met. She is, as we've been joking, the courage behind my badassery. She has a great heart, and I’m gonna miss her tons when she heads to Australia in a few days. She also apparently has a friend named Tom back at home who is a male version of me, so I’m totally going to visit when I get back. She’s the one on the right.

There’s Emily, who’s also from Canada (Calgary, I think), and she’s a crazy awesome bohemian who’s running around New Zealand without a plan, much like me. I met her the first night we were in Abel Tasman as well, and my first memory of her is her sitting in the common room playing guitar and saying “I’d do anything for money, except for work.” It was hilarious.

There’s Kira and Hardy, who I have to write up as a pair ‘cause they’re so effing adorable together. They’re from Germany, and I honestly have to say that I’ve never found German a nice language until I heard them speak it. Hardy’s a bit quiet until you get to know him, and then he’s just a super chill, super nice guy who I wish I could talk to more. Kira’s probably one of the top five most gorgeous people I’ve ever met. She’s got style, and she’s got a sort of dry humor that really comes out in her German to English translations, and she’s playful, which is one of my favorite characteristics in people. Here’s the four of them all together:

Then there’s Anna, who’s from England, and is a bit of a bookworm like me, but she knows how to party. We’ve had some great conversations about communes in Niceragua and the English opinion of the royal family.

And last there’s Joao and Ghislaine, and I’m not sure if I’m spelling EITHER of their names right. Joao is from Portugal and Ghislaine is from the Netherlands. Joao competes only with Meg for the loudest person in the group. He’s crazy and will go running off places randomly and singing at the top of his lungs in total silence. I know a bit less about Ghi, because she’s super quiet most of the time, and sort of stays in the background, but I guess that’s to be expected if you’re dating Joao.

So that’s the core eight (including me). We’ve got a few that come and go outside of that, but the eight of us have been together since we got to the South Island. We’re tight, and we’ll all be going our separate ways starting tomorrow, and that bums me out.

But here’s what we’ve been up to in the past week:

-Took the HUGE ferry from Wellington to Picton and started our journey on the South Island.

-Spent the first night here at Abel Tasman National Park, which was beautiful, but not quite as nice as National Park in the North Island, at least to me. I thought about doing the Great Walk they have there, but decided against it in the end because the timing was weird. Now I’m glad I did, ‘cause I wouldn’t have really met this cool group!

-The next night we spent in Barrytown, which has a population of about 40, so our bus pretty much doubled it. We stayed in a pub that doubled as a hostel, and had a crazy dress-up party and I had my first long convo with Meg about not knowing what we’re doing with our lives. It’s really nice to meet other people who have the same feelings and doubts about that as I do.

-The next night we were in Franz Joseph, which was BEAUTIFUL. My favorite place, I think, or at least right up there with Natty P, as Meg calls it. Just when you think the hills can’t get any higher, you see the even LARGER mountains and the glaciers on top.

-We stayed two night in Franz Joseph so we could spend a whole day climbing the glacier, which I did, and it was GORGEOUS.

-Next day we got on the road again and slept in Makarora, another tiny town with about one store. That night was karaoke, and I’m proud to say that I’ve now embarrassed myself in that fashion at least once in my life. Hardy and I sang “By The Way” by the Chili Peppers. We pretty much rocked it.

-Then, finally, the next day we got to Queenstown. I was sad that we were done with our beautiful West Coast drive, but it was nice to get back into civilization after our time in the wilds. Plus, this is the first place in NZ where I’ve felt like it’s really fall. Most of where we’ve been has been dense rainforest, and this is the first place with trees that change color!

-Since we got to Queenstown we’ve been bungy jumping (not me, but a few of us), been out partying, had some sweet serious convos, eaten Fergberger (which Queenstown is famous for), taken part of the walk around the lake, met some new friends, Kira’s gotten a SWEET tattoo (I thought about getting one, but nothing felt right), and had a pretty great time overall. Mostly we’re just enjoying being around each other. I keep feeling like I should be spending my time making plans and looking for jobs, but I figure taking a break from that for five days (last Friday through Tuesday) to enjoy being where I am with who I’m with isn’t a bad thing.

So I don’t know what I’m going to be doing, or where I’ll be, after Tuesday, but things will work out. I have a couple of job possibilities, but I’d like to stay near Queenstown for a bit. It’s so pretty here, and there are lots of hiking possibilities, even though I think it may now be too cold to camp. We’ll see. But I’ll try to keep this a bit more updated, and for more pictures of my adventures (I can only put so many on this blog ‘cause it takes SO long to upload) go check out my facebook.

Peace, y’all!

Birthday!

Well, here it is again (at least in New Zealand): April 7th. The day of my birth. I'm 23 now! Not entirely sure if I like it yet, but I'll have to wear it around for a bit before I decide if it fits. On the bright side, now I can listen to "What's My Age Again?" by Blink-182 and feel totally awesome. There's something great about listening to songs that talk about being your age. Next year I have "24" by Switchfoot to look forward to. Yay!

This is also my last day in Wellington, so here's a couple of things that I've been seeing/thinking/doing:
-There's this homeless guy who sits on the corner one block from my hostel, and after seeing him there every day, sometimes several times, while I walk from one place to another, I started having this urge to do something for him. He wasn't asking for anything. He's always just sitting, or sometimes sleeping, rolled up in a tattered blanket. For two or three days I just thought about what I could give him, and after rejecting a whole bunch of ideas I realized I had an extra small blanket and pillow that I'd bought while I was at PM Shearing that I didn't really need anymore. So yesterday I rolled them up and brought them with when I went for a walk, and when I got to his corner he was sleeping (which was great for me, as I was nervous about what I'd say to him). So I just set them next to him, and later on that day I saw him snuggled up with them in his usual spot. It made me feel pretty awesome. Now I smile every time I see him.
-I've had some pretty bad homesickness today. I actually counted how many days it would take me to go straight through the rest of the Stray tour back to Auckland and then go home. On the one hand, I'm frustrated with myself for wanting to leave only two months after getting here, but I miss home, and I think it's partly because I'm living like I'm on vacation. If I was living like this was every-day life (watching my spending more carefully, working all the time, having a set schedule) then I don't think it would be as exhausting. Or, not so much exhausting as...I'm not sure. But I feel like I want to go home. The only thing that's keeping me here is that there's still so much I want to see. But guys, I hope too many people aren't disappointed in me if I come back in another two months or so. Is four to six months a respectable amount of time to be gone when my visa's for a year? I feel like not taking the whole time would be wasteful.
-I really like Wellington as a city. It's surrounded by water, and it's got lots of green space, and it's very hilly, like San Francisco or Edinburgh. It doesn't make you feel closed in, like other cities I've been in. I could live here for a while if I wasn't so rarin' to get down to the South Island.
-I realized while I was on the Lord of the Rings tour the other day (yes, pictures are coming, but the internet's so slow here it takes forever to upload, so I'm waiting!) that I'm at my happiest when I'm out in the woods. My one shining moment of pure joy that I've been holding on to lately is the day I went for a hike in National Park near Taupo. It was a perfect day, and I had music and a pack and my boots, and I roamed through the woods for five hours, saw an amazing waterfall, and came back exhausted to a bowl of noodles and a hammock. When I was out with the LOTR tour we went to a wooded area where they shot Rivendel and I wandered around a bit and felt that same happiness. I've heard that you should follow those feelings, because they're usually telling you something, like what you should be doing. So I'm trying to listen. But mostly I just want that feeling again. It's right up there with being in love.

So, there are a couple of things for now. I'll be posting pictures and more travel updates soon!

Wellington (Finally!)

Alright, even though y'all have been LESS than helpful in responding to my angst-posts, I shall reward you with photos, regardless. I'm just that awesome. This shall be another pic-heavy and talk-lite post, so get ready!

Here's a picture of me and Ann and Murray, in case you were wondering who these strange people I stayed with in Dannevirke were. Please disregard my squinty eyes.

Before I left they gave me this cool necklace made out of glass. The spiral is a common New Zealand motif, representing the newly uncurling fern. Ann said it reminded her of me because it had blue, like the sea, and green like the hills, and I'd be traveling in both of them. I like it a lot.

Here's my first view of Wellington from the bus:

My first full day in Wellington was spent at the zoo. It was AWESOME. Here's a picture of the one legged kiwi they have! His other leg was cut off in a trap before the zoo rescued him. This is probably the only time I'll see NZ's national bird, as they're nocturnal and endangered.

I got to help with the check-up of two baby meerkats at the zoo! It was SO cool.


Here's the Beehive, which is Wellington's parliament building:

And the new St. Paul's cathedral, where I went to a Lutheran-style service!

Here's Te Papa, which is the national museum. It's part natural history, part art, and part science museum:
Here's a map of all the fault lines in the world, with the one that goes straight through New Zealand:

A funny quote I found at the museum:

The view of Wellington from the top of Mt. Victoria:

My first view of the South Island from the tip of Wellington!:

I went out to lunch with Nathan and Bridget (Bridget is Ann and Murray's daughter) on Sunday and ordered "grilled flounder" from the bay outside the window. This is what came out. I was a little confused about how to eat it, but it was DELICIOUS.

And there HAD to be an "after" picture:

View of Wellington from the top of Mt. Cook (which is opposite Mt. Victoria):

I went for a tramp out along the the southern tip of Wellington today. It was beautiful:

(Intermission Part Deux)

(And yes, the Wellington posts with pictures are still coming)

This week I’ve been dealing with my addiction to fiction.

After sitting one night realizing how much time I spend reading, watching movies, watching tv shows, being invested in fictional characters, and talking with others who have the same interests, the thoughts started to annoy me.

I mean, here I am in New Zealand. When I was at home I was daydreaming about coming here. I’m always daydreaming about faraway places and the adventures I’ll go on when I get there. And now I’m HERE. I’m ON my grand adventure. And all I want to do half the time is curl up and immerse myself in someone else’s life! How can that be?

I can’t remember a time when I WASN’T a bookworm, or out in the backyard playing pretend, or staring out the window daydreaming. I think, for whatever reason, this is just part of who I am. And I think part of that is a good thing; it’s part of my creativity. But the problem comes in when the fiction starts to take you away from real life. From this moment, now.

A lot of the awareness that I’ve been trying to foster, and the meditation and prayer that I try to practice, is based in the knowledge that the present moment is the only one in which you can act. The past is done, the future is uncertain at best, but NOW you can think and feel and do. And when I realize I’ve just spent a large part of my day living in fantasy, I wonder what it is I could have been doing instead.

I think part of my problem is that I associate the word “happiness” with an ideal state that you can achieve, and not with a constant state of joy in which I can live. In the back of my mind I believe that I’ll know I’ve achieved happiness when I’m in a place where I’m no longer daydreaming of something better.

I think that’s part of what I’m looking for, on this journey: that definition of happiness. Finding a place where I think “yes, there is no better place than this.” A place where I don’t want anything more than what is in front of me.

But is that realistic? Ok, bad choice of words when discussing fiction. I mean, is that…healthy? I don’t know that I ever will be in a place where I stop dreaming, and if I am, will that mean I’ve lost the creative part of myself? And if I lost my creative side, would I really be happy?

And clearly I’m a bit TOO caught up in my thoughts if I’m going around in circles like this.

I guess when it comes down to it, I feel bad for spending time enjoying something that has me sitting on my butt instead of “doing,” and I’m not sure if I should change things, or just let myself be. Or something in between the two.