On taking a break

Last week, I went to Melbourne. It's about as far South as you can go in Australia, in the state of Victoria. It was a dream, and while I didn't write or read much, I drank excellent coffee and saw excellent sights in excellent company and I got to wear scarves, which was excellent. I even saw the smallest penguins in the world (This is not a hyperbole. It's fact), and while we weren't allowed to take photographs, it is something that will be etched into my memory for the rest of my life. There is so much beauty in the world, and sometimes it takes the ridiculous waddling of a tiny animal to remind you of this truth.

As we got closer and closer to Sydney, though, I found myself restless. Not in the wanderlust sense. More in the I've so enjoyed this holiday and now I'm back and having to face the daily grind again and what if I can't handle it, and I was oh-so worried that coming back would be stressful.

It wasn't. I stepped into the doorway of my host family's house and it was like coming home, all over again. Like July 1st, 2013 when I stepped out of the airport into the crisp, Australian air for the first time and in spite of everything swirling around me, I just knew that I was in the right place.

There's something to be said for taking breaks. For sleeping much later than necessary and eating breakfast at lunchtime. For walking along beaches and perusing in new bookstores and taking breaths that are so long and sweet you're not exactly sure how your lungs are managing it. I don't know much about this year, but I do know this: It will be great. One for the record books.

I'm not one for resolutions or yearly "reflections" (which I think it a poor word choice, but that's a different story altogether). I think that the last day in May is as good a day as the first day in January to turn over a new leaf or start a new project or talk about how your life is shaping up. But I get it. I get that we live in a time frame dictated by a calendar that says this month is the beginning. I'll take it.

Give me everything you've got, new year. I can take anything you throw at me. I know how to breathe deeply between punches.

Bathhouses down by the seaside

We stopped in Ballarat to watch part of a cycling race. This is the peloton.

This is Stephen. He is a gentleman and makes a stellar travel companion.

These last 10 days

...have been a whirlwind of frustration and satisfaction, stress and relaxation, holiday bustle and slow summer heat. Between the end-of-school rush, Christmas shopping and celebrating, and making the transition to sundresses and shorts (in December no less), I have to remind myself to breathe. I have to remind myself that this is real life; I came to Australia almost six months ago and I'm still here. Happy, content, joy overdosing.

This is a season of acceptance. Of knowing both where I am and where I'm headed, and realizing the perfection in both. With the new year approaching quickly, there rarely seems to be enough time to accomplish the daily routines, let alone leave time for a complicated thought process about resolutions or reflections or whatever. There is only this place, this day, and the promise that it is all getting better and better, up and up.

 

 

On living high

Yesterday, I went for the first time to the Blue Mountains with my friends Courtney and Stephen. The Blue Mountains are both well-known and popular, subsequently hosting countless tourists a day, particularly now that spring has sprung. Lucky for us, Stephen happens to live close to the mountains, so Courtney and I got to see a different view. Not only did we enjoy a hike that finished with the most spectacular view I'd ever seen, but we were also able to explore some gardens where parts of the new film "The Great Gatsby" was shot. Undeniably cool.

Then today, Courtney and I sprawled out on the beach, soaking in the sun and talking about the beauty of that hike and boys and Australia and life in general. Our conversation eventually turned towards where we're headed after this year and I remember saying that this season has taught me the priceless lesson of true contentment. That in realizing what I want to do with my life, I've come to realize that I don't care where I live, as long as I'm doing what I love with people whom I love, and there is an unmistakable joy in that revelation. In this season. Later, over dinner with an old friend of hers, the same sort of question arose. But it was more along the lines of understanding why it's necessary to move on from each part of your life to another. In reminiscing about high school and college days, someone mentioned that there are always those people who make you feel like you're still in college or still in high school, and I pointed out that college is sort of where you find yourself. But then you've got to go and be yourself.

Australia has given me the gift of myself. Each day, each adventure, spurs me on to the next and in spite of the constant motion, I am not growing weary. I am learning to run with endurance, to have more perseverance. I am enjoying not only my successes but also the things that are being made clear to me through my shortcomings. Standing on the edge of that cliff brought to my attention the reality of my smallness, and I felt the presence of the Lord and I felt like a giant. We were high and we were mighty and it was righteous.

Hiking this weekend brought an ache to my legs that brought a wave to my heart, crashing over my soul in a strength and tenderness that made me light. I love to be outside, to feel the heat of the sun mixing with the chill of a wind that could knock you off your feet. It's a cicada summer here, and it reminds me of home in the sweetest of ways, and I find that all I want is to keep walking. To keep living high.

Childlike

Knowing this girl has brought me so much.

He's really really tall

Joy.