Holidays and Happy Things

I’m back. You may not even have noticed I was gone, such is the nature of a blog site. Unless you have set days to post, which I don’t, people don’t tend to pay too much attention to how frequently you post a blog. But I digress. You may be wondering, now that you are aware that I was gone, where I went. Well, you see, I took a holiday. The first real holiday I have ever had and, after the last six months especially, extremely well deserved. I went, for eight glorious, peace filled days, to Tasmania. And I have to say, I have rather fallen in love.

You may have read, prior to this post, that I was not doing ok. The inside of my head had become an increasingly dark space, and I was sinking deeper and deeper into a chasm of black that I wasn’t prepared – or capable enough – to drag myself up from. Had I not have taken this holiday, I think I would still be there, in that darkest of places that perhaps only some of you have ever been. But away I went, and from the moment I walked away from my shop at 4:30 pm (a blissful half hour earlier than usual), I felt a literal lightening in my chest, the heavy weight that had settled there easing more with every step further away from work that I took. By the time I boarded the ferry, I was positively giddy.

Now, the ferry itself was not particularly pleasant, simply because a recliner is not really all that conducive to a good night’s sleep, especially when the one next to you is occupied by a male stranger with terrible breath. However, sleepless nights are not entirely new to me and so I made it through the 11 hour trip by staring out the window at the night darkened water, reading in the dim light, and listening to my ipod. When I disembarked upon arrival, something in my soul just started to…sing. Sounds New Age-y, I know. But it was as if I had come home. Now of course, a significant factor in my contentment has to do with the fact that I was away from work, and from the city that I have come to despise. But still, despite never having been to Tasmania before, I was positively overwhelmed a sense that this was where I belonged.

I didn’t take this trip with any real plan in mind, and as such most of what I did came from split second decisions, and very limited research. But it was utterly spectacular. I did the Tahune Airwalk, took a guided tour through the Hastings Caves, drove to the top of Mt Wellington, explored the incredible history steeped grounds at Port Arthur and took a 3.5 hour drive, just so I could wander down the pristine white sands at the stunning Bay of Fires. I ambled through MONA, went to see Logan (review to come), and spent the day with a couple of friends, wandering the Salamanca Market, drinking cider at the Cascade Brewery, and playing with their adorable puppy. I drove all over the place, saw some of the most beautiful sights, ate so much awesome food. And for those entire eight days, I wasn’t angry, or unhappy once. My default emotion was completely absent, even when a driver nearly collided with my car after failing to give way at a roundabout. And see, that was the thing. It wasn’t just the things I did, and the places  saw that had me feeling so cheerful. It was everything. The air was clearer, the people seemed nicer, even the water tasted better. It would appear that I have found the place where I could see myself living, long term.

I returned on the ferry yesterday, drove home (not the city) to visit one of my favourite people, and then when I arrived back to the house I live in, I cleaned and tidied, and murdered the ants that had set up shop in my bed. I could feel the discontent start to simmer beneath the surface of my skin, could feel the blissful calm of the previous week start to slowly dissipate. I dreaded coming to work this morning. But I am determined to make it through this next month as positively as I can. You see, as of today, I have exactly one month left at this dingy little shop. My boss informed me before I took my holiday that they have taken on another shop, and I will be running that instead. One more month, and then no more city. I mean, I’ll still technically be living in the “city”, but I won’t actually be working in the actual city. Which is going to do wonders for my mental state. And with the move of shop, comes the prospect of once again living on my own; a marvellously wonderful possibility. It would appear that good things are coming my way.

Evidently all I needed to improve my dark state of mind was to go away for a while, clear my head and create (which I am happy to report that I did, a little). So here’s to better things, to a happier head, and to Tasmania. I will be back for you, one day.

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