2 January

Miko took me up to one of the Honey Flow owner's house, but they weren't there. He told me to drop in later.. which I thought would be super weird and very uncomfortable. A few days laterI walked over to their house and I was scared! I felt nervous and out of place. I took a minute before actually walking down their driveway, and I realised I was scared of rejection. I think this is something that I've been scared of in various situations. There was a part of me that rather not go down and “intrude” or even see if anyone was home because I was scared! When I realised that, I still didn't really want to go down there, but I did.

There was a man on the phone and his daughter sitting outside. I waved and said “hello”, the father went to give the phone to his wife and introduced myself. I realised I saw them the day before at the Amphi and said so. I told him, Chris, that I am a friend of Miko's and he said he'd introduced me because I was looking for a job and hopefully Honey Flow had some openings. His wife was the one to actually talk to, but he offered me tea and we chatted for a few minutes. Another guy came out, Ryley, who I met Christmas Eve and I said “hey” and all the good stuff. It wasn't actually that awkward after the first two minutes. Summer, the wife, got off the phone and we talked and she was super nice. She just kind of got a feel of who I was and what I was looking for. She isn't the one who does the hiring, so I may not hear back for a few more days.

I probably spent a good 45 minutes at their house and they were so kind and we all talked about TV shows and movies and what not as well. I felt so welcomed, and reassured. Regardless of getting a job, I'm so glad I walked up.

I've avoided so many interactions because I have this fear. The fear comes out in different ways: not wanting to disturb or intrude, wanting to avoid making awkward small talk, feel like I'm wasting my time or their time, and probably countless other mostly unreasonable things. But the underlying or the root to all of those feelings is a fear of being rejected.

I don't know if I know the core reason to this fear. I can say that it's been conditioned and shaped by past relationships... but to be the root cause? I'm not sure. I don't know when I started to feel this way, but it's been a few years to say the least. Was I like this when I was 25? Yes. What about 18? Maybe. Maybe what started out as a genuine “need” to be polite morphed into a real anxiety over the years.

That day I actually recognised what that feeling was, I consciously told myself that I was scared of being rejected. I made an effort to bring it to light, and I guess that's where I'm going to start. If there are other past relationships, events, or even current relationships that are endorsing this anxiety, I hope I can come to realise this. So at least I can look at these “things” with some a sense of knowing and neutrality, accept, and grow.

23 January

Flash forward to over a year later.

I'm sitting in the bush, aka the jungle, and it is so lush.

Just sitting here typing I can hear three different types of birds chirping away. It's humid enough to feel your skin becoming sticky and your oily hair mat against your face. But there is a slight breeze that feels cool and refreshing despite the constant “ I want to shower” sensation. The rain comes and goes and there's this soft pitter patter of it hitting all the leaves. It is SO GREEN.

It's absolutely beautiful. But the mozzies are the worst! I get new bites every day. I'm going to be moving to the other side of Nimbin in a few days. I'm a bit North of town and I'll be moving just outside of town to an area that is more farm like, more grass, less bugs (I hope), and it'll be a bit hotter.

I still haven't found a job, a month after starting to look for one. It's been hard. I've had two random shifts at a cafe doing dishes. A part of me thinks maybe I should give up looking for a job and just travel until I run out of money. But what I really like about being in Nimbin is getting to know the people here. The friends I've met welcomed me from the start and included me, not because I was so and so's friend, but because why wouldn't they? Today I was in town and went into the information centre to ask a question and the woman asked me “Are you Anisha? I'm Stone's step-mom.” I don't think we ever got introduced, but we have been circling around the same people over the holidays and she was open about knowing who I was and not abashed by it. I love that!! I really dislike when people pretend not to know your name or shy away from remembering when they met you.

A few days ago I was at the Amphi and Quinn asked me “What are your passions?” I quickly came to realise (which I've known, but haven't quite formulated in a clear and concise way), I don't have a passion. I don't have anything that I'm really passionate. I have things I enjoy, but I don't even know if I have a hobby.

I really love doing yoga. But I can't say it's a passion in the sense that I need to share it with others. I love reading, but again, it's not something I share with others.

Over the last two years I come to realise that I want to talk to people. I like educating others, teaching them, and listening to them. But I don't know what I want to teach them to do or what to communicate. I enjoy making connections for others, weather it's business or personal.

The other day I was talking to Zeem (sp?), about the 16 types of personalities and how my personality type (ESFJ) is the most common personality type, but in one of my groups of friends, I'm the only ESFJ and there are four or five people who are the least common personality types. And how perhaps I'm a bridge, I can bridge between this more esoteric, introversion, the feelings, to the more concrete, logic, and extroverted types of personalities. And it's true, I do bounce between two different types of worlds. I am super efficient and work very well in logical, scheduled, and clear cut rule environments. But I also need and love being in the more relaxed, grey areas, kind of sloppy environments.

Maybe there's something in that. Hopefully I'm being guided towards an answer and all I have to do is be open to it.

After almost a year of traveling, I finally started to write.

This isn't going to be in any specific order to where I went, I'll probably bounce back and forth between where I was and where I am, a person I'm hanging out with now and someone that I met once, the scenery today and the scenery from a few months ago.

So just for fun-sies, here's a photo from last April. This was taken in Australia on a little island off the coast of Brisbane. I went there to do some trekking and swimming, but there wasn't much trekking, either a 45 minute walk or a 6 hour hike that I wasn't prepared for. This was a dock that burnt down and was never removed.

Still home

In the week before what seemed to become a looming and terrifying trip to New Zealand, I was on the brink of a panic attack. I had purchased my one way ticket into Auckland in May 2014 and long before 9 January 2015 arrived, all the excitement had faded and I was just left with an extreme fear of... the unknown.

I remember when I had first purchased my ticket, I was ready, I needed to get out of the town I grew up in, left for university, only to come back and work in for another five and a half years. I was excited, I was proud, I was fucking ready. I needed it. Shopping for my supplies over the next few months was exhilarating, I loved researching and trying things out, test packing and found it liberating getting rid of stuff I didn't need in my life anymore. I got rid of so much shit – clothes, shoes, electronics, stuff that I didn't even remember I owned. Looking for cool things to do in New Zealand, Hobbiton, wwoofing, yoga, Milford Sound, I felt productive, and I can't say enough, I felt ready to leave.

But that only took two or three months so by September I was done with it and my life as per usual went on. I went to work, I went out with friends, I went to a lot of yoga classes. But when December finally did roll in, the excitement didn't come back. I was just left freaking the fuck out. The feeling of unease and doom stuck to me, my body seemed to be marinating in it. The day before I left I practically sprinted for two miles, I went a power vinyasa class, and still, I couldn't shake off the discomfort. I was so tightly strung, my body was physically unable to let go.

I have an amazing support system of friends, and even a close friend made an over 500 mile drive to see me before leaving. But making sure that I saw each and every one of them was really rough on my nervous system. I couldn't watch a TV show without crying!

My best friend, who just landed from his own international flight earlier that day, met me at the airport to say goodbye. Just thinking about that moment makes me teary eyed. I'm not sure if I can call it grief, I wasn't mourning, but I was more than terrified. I was leaving this amazing support system and for what?

I must have looked a bit crazy, red eyed, puffy face, all the while trying to keep it cool. I had waited years for this, I've wanted to travel on my own for a long, long time. Why was I so scared? Why wasn't I excited?

I got on the plane and opened up a letter from the friend who drove so far to see me off. It was a letter of encouragement, full of love and wonder. So far, all that it promised was true.