“How vain is it to sit down and write when you have not stood up to live?” – Thoreau
I’ve taken some time off this month to live. And given that I’m the female equivalent of Peter Pan, I don’t think I’ve ever not lived. As soon as the clock hit eighteen, I was on airplanes to take big bites out of a world I didn’t know I craved to taste. My early twenties were spent with backpacks with a Canadian flag sewn on the back with dental floss clompering through all the corners of this world. I once drove 30,000 Kms in hotel Corolla across Australia, ripping down back roads following coordinates for a hidden lagoon in the middle of the outback drawn by a local at a grocery store–wondered if I’m mad or wild and not cared all the same. Slept in the back of my car beside termite dunes and showered with melted cooler water underneath the stars. The last three years I’ve poured myself into my vocation with my whole heart, and most of it being online sometimes means I live in two worlds. In here, with all of you and out there–eating yellow chicken covered in chilies as I smile softly at a woman and give her my change. The last 3-4 months I’ve worked madly, and a few weeks ago I go tired. Time for more living offline. Time for more living not working Janne, my spirit said.
I’ve taken time this last few weeks where I wake up without an alarm clock. Wandered down a dusty road barefoot past a white dog who runs out to greet me with all the love we seek and miss in this world. Bought brown eggs covered in chicken shit in a plastic bag down the street. Drank coffee and walked to get more coffee.
Taken the time to finally meet my driver Su Dharma’s family. See the smile of his wife, hear his daughters broken English, pet his dogs, nod at his father sitting on the steps of their family home that is a red and gold draped temple. I’ve taken time to see the little boy with the biggest white toothed grin cheer as he catches the small of a wave as the sun descends with the fire burning on the coals beneath our heads each night. It’s been refreshing, remembering to live a little differently. And I’m also going to visit my father, for the second time in my life in under a week in Greece and will be unplugged + present during that time as well. This life out here is sacred, live in them all–but do not forget how sacred it is where their are cows clinking and wind dancing and salt swaying.