You know...I'm a bit of a nerd.
I played quite a few video games in my formative years.
Little did I know that one of the simplest of them would prove to be the best analogy for my life to date.
Tetris.
Fill a row with blocks, and you get points.
If you've played it, you'll know that the ultimate goal is to stack all of these different sized and shaped blocks leaving just enough room for the end all, be all block.
The long skinny rectangle.
If you're on your OCD A-Game, you'll have set yourself up perfectly. A beautiful collection, just waiting for that skinny rectangle.
If you're really lucky though - it actually shows up.
My life pre-travel was a serious of tetris games. Pieces seemingly picked at random for me to build my life out of. Occasionally, I nailed it. Stacked things just right so that I could earn a few points and keep the game going. Sometimes, I screwed it. Jumped at the last minute. Had twitchy thumbs and accidentally moved before I meant to. Game over. Start again.
However, a new and interesting thing happened to me. When I first came to New Zealand, I stumbled across the perfect game.
Now, these pieces were new. They showed up in foreign shapes and weird sizes. Like seeing a parallelogram for the first time. But, for some reason, all of the pieces stacked just right. Leaving just enough room a neat skinny rectangle.
And what do you know...it showed up.
Then, just like that, the perfect game. All of the pieces cleared the board.
A fresh playing field.
People talk about chapters in life. I've come to the conclusion that I've totally skipped over the whole chapter scenario. I've got completely different books.
I had one life in Kentucky. I was from a small town. Spoiled in a way, but still grounded to an extent. My world was forged in tiller blades, the smell of horse sweat on your hands, poison ivy, bonfires, delicious meals, hard work, easy work, laziness, and dreams.
After I stepped off the plane in New Zealand with a backpack and duffle bag of clothes, I was a whole new person. A blank person. Unmoored. Foundationless.
I remade myself to a length. Picked up a new accent (hard to avoid I would like to say!). Picked new likes. New dislikes. New jokes. New friends. New jobs.
I lost my old self. Sent it to the desert of my mind to wander for a few years and told it to think about what it had done and why it had sent me halfway across the planet to look for what I needed. My self-confidence, independent spirit, trusting nature and part of my soul grabbed a bottle of water and followed after it.
The first year was a shock. But a pleasant one. Kind of like when you're just falling asleep and are on the cusp of stepping into a nightmare, but your body does that thing where it makes you think you're falling and you jerk yourself awake.
The second year has been a blur.
But, low and behold, I've blinked and somehow ended up as a person with legit life experience. I had a relationship that thrilled me, made me grow, and taught me humility. I had a collection of friends who stepped to the plate to back me, carry me, shelter me, feed me, push me and drive me when I didn't even know I needed it. A job that taught me things, challenged me and delighted me. Life was ticking along.
Then, thing's suddenly grinded to a screeching halt, leaving my head ringing and my heart spewing its guts out like some hungover teenager.
Looking around, I realised that the door to my new found life was shutting. I fought it. Pushed it. Ignored it. Set it on fire. Hid from it. Yelled at it. Cried at it. Tried to sneak around it, through it, under it. Begged it. And then the lock snicked into place.
I stood there, staring at the door for a little while. Prodded for weaknesses. Tried the handled a few times. Perhaps I could pick the lock. Maybe I could just kick it down.
Nope. No key. No lock pick. And the stupid thing is solid as a rock.
"Fuck", I said with a sigh as I hung my head in defeat and slid down the wall on the other side.
A wise man recently told me that when you're fighting too hard, it's probably not worth the fight. Set things down. Walk away. Come back later with fresh eyes and a new set of tools.
I'm a firm believer in this.
Things seem to fall into place when you're on the right track. Maybe you get a credit line increase for no reason. Maybe you find you missing lucky penny. Maybe you hear just the right thing at just the right time.
Follow it. If good things are happening, just follow them. It's slightly terrifying, probably not the direction you saw your life headed in, but you never know...it might just be worth it.
As they say, "When a door shuts, a window opens."
And, from what I hear, my new window's got a pretty sweet view of the ocean.
