So here I am, having dreamt of Italy the whole year, obsessing about Vanuatu ever since I got to Italy a week ago – have just boarded a train to Vienna! Travel planning Polina style…
I have had an opportunity to further refine the box I am going to put myself into. I am definitely not a traveller in the common sense of the word, but I am most certainly a people traveller. I don’t go places to meet people, I go to visit people I know and happen to see some places along the way. And the more I relax into my own awesomeness, the more the universe keeps serving me up with the most awesome people that I can’t resist hanging with. And so to Vienna I go. It was a hard choice between Vienna and Rome but Vienna felt right at this precise point in time. It was an interesting experience though being at a time and space crossroads of life, seeing clearly 2 different possibilities and choosing between them. I got to hurry up and evolve to the point of splitting consciousness so I can experience all possibilities at the same time and wouldn’t have to choose.
Totally randomly ran into a friend from Sydney at the Milan train station an hour ago. Perplexed at the size of this world we live in – one minute it seems too large as I say good bye to new friends and everyone heads out to their own part of the world. And another minute it seems a little too small for me to run into a friend I haven’t seen in years like that – or maybe it is just full of coincidences. He and his girlfriend just did a road trip around Switzerland and Alps, visited Como, which was my third destination option this morning. “Looks like New Zealand, only the mountains are higher” was their sentiment, and indeed, the picture did hold a striking resemblance to the Queenstown lake, which was the backdrop of my homeless experiment just a few months ago. And so it is, that I have vicariously visited Como.
I can’t help but notice the overall feeling of well being stemming from this process – feels good to write, it has been a while, feels like talking to an old friend.
Another thing I can’t help noticing is that Italian night coach seats are prickly. I have overcome most of my childhood pet peeves and now even eat (gasp!) cooked onions but the feel of wooly textures is as irritating now as it was when I was 5.
I write in disjointed paragraphs. I wonder if there is any cure for this, something without the side effects of stifling authentic self expression.
While having a lot of time to contemplate this week I have noticed a peculiar mind habit of mine – I seem to constantly live in the future! And since my future is always so exciting and makes me happy to think about it, I haven’t really noticed until these past few days that I practically inhabit it, with only occasional visits to the present. It’s a biggy, will need to ponder it more and come up with some strategy to reverse this deadly trend.
I feel weird…
It struck me today how much I am like a snail, always in the move, all my belongings with me. But it also feels good to have narrowed down a sense of “home” down to a single country of Vanuatu, even if I hate it again when i get there. I will always have multiple homes and always will travel, now that I have beautiful people as friends spread all over the globe I have to bear this cross, but I want a base as well, a place to get away from people and from the world. It has a certain quality to it – living in a place that no one knows even exists – the ultimate escapism, which my soul seems to always seek in one way or another.
Do I need to write the full 3 pages if it’s not the morning but is right before bed time?
Interestingly, I have just finished another intensive workshop and seems like I have nothing to say. Probably need to let it settle in for a few days first, otherwise right now everything’s been stirred up and whirling in the air… Or perhaps nothing communicatable has shifted, but more the inexpressible undercurrents of emotions and perceptions.
Alps sure were nice though, but even the niceness felt strange. I felt like I was in the most beautiful place on Earth yet was totally disconnected as if watching it on TV. That statement about INTP must be true then, first and foremost we tune in and experience the ambiance of the place, the sights and everything else comes second. And if I can’t feel the place for whatever reason, that’s the impression that remains, not the actual physical beauty. Hmmm… I wonder how true this is of my perception of people.
I want to be a writer. How lovely would it be if I could just do this.