Far From Home

A few days ago I returned from my 1-week trip at Will's holiday batch on Kawau Island. The week consisted of mostly relaxing, reading and grilling out every evening. We gave ourselves a rest from technology and left the Internet and television behind, which, aside from not being able to stay in touch with those close to me (and yet, so far away), was pretty refreshing.

Throughout the week we'd come up with little activities between our long reading sessions to keep things fresh. For starters, each day we'd run out to the end of the wharf and dive headfirst into the beautiful blue. Or, rather, Will would dive while Andrew (a friend of ours) and I attempted to mimic the technique. It appears that diving - like whistling - is one of those things I missed out on in my childhood. And, just like whistling, it's not exactly the easiest thing to pick up later in life. It basically went down like this: Will attempts a pretty basic dive, provides some pretty basic information, and I pretty-much complicate the hell out of it with my then failed attempt. In doing so, I somehow managed to harm parts of my body that should never be hitting the water in such painful ways. Once even, I landed face-first. Which is mighty impressive, sicne I was pretty confident that my hands, which came in a close second, were in front of my face. Pain. Lots of pain.

Of course, no trip would be complete with Will if it didn't include a few walks, so we were able to see a lot of the island as long as weather allowed (which, for the most part, it did). And, along the way, I remembered to bring my camera and took plenty of pictures of this mini utopia.

A few more friends joined us during the week and we spent our evenings as any young adults on a near-deserted island with a fridge full of alcohol would: drinking. As not to suggest to readers that this was merely a pointless and unrewarding event during my week, I'd like to point out - au contraire - it was quite educational. During our evenings I learned a little about New Zealand drinking culture and will be taking back with me a few hilarious drinking games to share with friends. I'm sure my parents are so proud.

I'm past the halfway mark of my trip now and I'm starting to have a feeling of urgency. Part of me - the part that has been ingrained in my brain since I left adolescence - feels that I've accomplished nothing. Thus far I have published no work abroad or stepped foot inside a newsroom other than to speak with an editor about my interest in finding work - paid or unpaid.

But, the other part of me, the part of me that likes to say the hell with the rat race and the conformed attitude that success is gauged by career accomplishments, feels that I'll be coming home with so much more than I left with. For one, I have a better understanding about what matters most to me, what makes me a better person with and without certain parts of my life. I understand more now than I did as a young teen living in New Zealand how big this world is and how much bigger than me it always has been.

None of these things will brighten up my resume in the least. Thankfully, that latter part of me is the standout. And - for the moment - I'm okay with that.

Closer now,
John