Begin again.

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.

A Modern Day Truman Show

I feel like Truman Burbank.

 

Jim Carey's lead role from the widely know movie The Truman Show (which, according to my recent search on IMDB came out in 1998. WHAT? That doesn't sound that long ago.....until I do the math. 15 years ago?!?!).

 

If you for some unfortunate reason are unfamiliar with this movie, let me give you a quick plot synopsis:

Truman Burbank is a normal man. Living a normal life. Only he is completely unaware that his "normal life" is completely manufactured by a TV crew. His friends and family are all actors. His entire life has been aired live on TV 24-7. Cameras are hidden in inconspicuous places, scenes are set up for him to react to, and every person in his life is directed by a TV producer through an inner ear microphone.

He is unsatisfied with the life he leads and his discovery of his lead role in a faux life leads him along the ultimate path of adventure and self affirmation.

 

If you haven't seen it (seriously?) then please, rent it and enjoy.

 

Let me say again, I feel like Truman Burbank. My life is not real. I cannot say that enough because its a constant thread in my thought process lately.

 

I keep waiting to see the same car circling the block, or to walk around a corner and catch a cameraman unawares. I'll say something like "HA! I knew it!" While pointing a finger at him, a look of success and simultaneous dismay displayed across my features.

Success because I knew it couldn't all be true, dismay because I was secretly afraid to be so right.

 

Most days I wake up from dreams of things I used to do. Fuzzy landscapes of varying shades of green, grass tickling my feet as I ride a giant paint horse through a field. Sun on my back and wind on my face. It all melts to the background as my eyes open, my brain catalogs and reviews it and tucks it away as one would place a well read, dog-eared book back on a shelf. It actually confounds me that I accept what are actual memories as some sort of dream life. 

 

I've been in New Zealand for over a month now. Some mornings, I lie in bed, smothered in fleece sheets, staring out across a coastal city. Pacific ocean to my right, mountains slowly rippling into the distance on my left.

 

It blows my mind how right my life feels. How right and normal that view out the window is. How much the sound of an ocean breeze comforts a girl who grew up listening to wind whispering through tall grass. She was one who took solace in the silence and scents of a rolling field. She was more comfortable on horseback than on her own two feet. She lead a life of continuity, each day bleeding into the next.

 

No more. Now she lives a life of mountains. Of tides. Of wild weather. Of great music. Of even better food. Of the best company. Of air, and balance and adventure.

 

You know, I hope my life is a modern day Truman Show. The ratings of late must be killing it. 

Letters for You - Episode One

A Letter for You,

I want you to know, first of all, that I miss you terribly.

Quite often I catch myself thinking that I could have said more, been there more often, stayed longer, asked more questions or just listened more. It makes me feel rather regretful that there are many things in my life that you wont be able to witness. Almost as though I wish I had started living my life long ago. 

That being said, each memory that you bring forth is a beautiful and happy one. I cannot recall one time that I was in your vicinity without a smile on my face. The time you've spent with me has left a massive impression on who I will be in the years to come.

I have a list longer than my arm of things I want to ask you. Advice that I want to request. You always had just the right amount of words phrased in just the right way and any opinion offered never fell upon deaf ears.

My need to explore, see, and experience the world is of my own making. However, it is the simple fact that I know, without doubt, how proud you are of me that brings a smile to my face. Your approval of my current course gives my life weight and solidity that few people my age are lucky enough to experience. The path that I now confidently walk may be the one less travelled by, but that has made all the difference.

Thank you for inspiring me and giving me the courage to walk in the yellow woods.

Love,
LP

Letters for You

Today is the beginning of a project that I've been meaning to start for sometime now. I am always fond of honesty, especially blunt honesty, and there are so many things that people leave unsaid. Therefore, this project is going to envelope (pun!) a series of letters for you.

Addendum to "Turnaround"

Please note: On the night that we originally met The Professor, he was out for drinks with his friend Caesar. I find it very necessary to mention him as he and his girlfriend Cleopatra have been present for each subsequent visit coinciding with The Professor.

Fun fact about Caesar: The man has a sweet tiny empire in Dunedin and some killer dance moves. He and Cleopatra also know where to find some AMAZING fish and chips...

The Professor Catches a Boomerang

GET ME OFF THIS PLANE.

My heart is thudding in my chest miles above the ocean.

In another 12 hours, I'll be back in Darling Dunedin. Not real.

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On a layover in Fiji. This airport is full of tourists. And a weird Chinese man keeps ambling too close to me and leaving his luggage five feet from my chair. Just sets it down and walks away. Then creeps back behind me to retrieve it, only to leave it again on his next patrol of this area of the airport.

The birds were super chatty this morning when we exited our 12 hours flight from LA.

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Auckland. Right. No offense to those who enjoy this city, but I did not miss it.

What I have missed though, are showers. WHICH the Auckland airport has graciously provided for its patrons.

Hot water? Thumbs up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

These clouds are so.damn.bright. They finally get the hell out of the way and I can see the happy little airstrip tucked in a valley. Surround by cattle fields.

My body feels lighter. My heart resumes its thud-thud-thud against my ribcage.

I drag my carry-on luggage from the over head bin. My feet carry me over the tiny aisle way between the seats and I finally weave my way between people to get to the gate.

Exiting the doorway into the main terminal, I try (in vain) to place a calm look on my face. Probably failing miserably as soon as my eyes make contact with a lovely looking gentleman casually glancing my way from a seat to my right.

And there's my grin. And all is right in the world again.

He even wore a button down shirt. Melt.

Boomer is back. Dunedin here I come. 

Boomer

Well, he tried. He checked my tickets. Made sure that my final destination was indeed Kentucky. My flight boarded at 3:30pm. Saw me check my bags and thought he was free and clear until October.

Until three hours later...

Facebook Correspondence:

LP: "You aren't going to believe this.....my flight just got cancelled! Hah!"

In a fluke event, and after my flight had been delayed by and hour and half, it ends up getting cancelled because two of the crew members had a "disagreement" and one of them refused to fly. The airline couldn't find anyone to staff the flight, so we were grounded for the night.

My life is not normal.

Poor Professor. He was all excited to have one whole night to himself.

Nope.

I shot The Fox a message on my way BACK through customs to see if she knew of a place that I could land for the night in case I couldn't catch a flight out.

Which I couldn't.

Lucky for me, the crew had gone on a bit of a city tour after dropping me off and running errands, so they were still in Calgary. So they came back to the airport to collect me....

He face was, again, priceless. My favorite half grin.

So back to Camp Acer we go.

I spent the evening chatting with everyone, laughing, smiling and in the most relaxed and carefree atmosphere we've had all week. There is so much love in this house, so much joy, you simply cant fight it.

And here I sit, spinning out the last little bit of this story before we load up and head to the airport AGAIN.



Dear Idiot Employee at United,

Thanks.

Regards,
LP