DECOMPRESSION

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It’s been a while since I last bothered to write something. I’m not going to lie, I find myself avoiding it at times since it calls for a kind of stillness and reflection that I find challenging. My reflective moments tend to come at the most random times: driving down a fast lane, dancing to some ET-sounding tunes, or after my fifth espresso martini. They rarely come when I’m actually sitting still.

So, I’ve entered a flat line stage. I’m tired of getting on airplanes and buses, and I don’t feel like carrying this bag around anymore. I’ve found some spots that I like, and I intend to nurture them and stay a while. I just traveled from Koh Tao, scuba diving central, back to Hoi An in Vietnam, certainly a place I feel comfortable calling home. The balance of beach, city, food, and ambience just puts me in a good mood. Thailand is where you go to party. Vietnam is where you come to heal.

I was so lucky to have had the chance to reconnect with my closest friend Ella and her partner. Seeing them come out of the dregs of England was amazing, and it showed me just how much can happen in the short span of six months. I’ve lived a lifetime of meaningless and meaningful experiences, and I’ve worked on myself just enough to wear the badge of growth. And so has she, my best friend who’s seen me at my lowest points, and vice versa. She’s worked solely and tirelessly toward her goal of becoming a professional psychologist, and yes, of course she’s gone and gotten the best grades possible. Doing a master’s degree is no joke. That takes some serious dedication and brain power. I never doubted her ability for a second. When Ella wants something, she’s gone and done it before you can even blink.

Ella and I have a special connection, having lived through many similar experiences and life lessons. I can’t hide from Ella Marques, nor do I ever want to. We grew together in many ways, and although I’m older, I can’t say I’m any wiser. She’s one person I can truly say sees me. And although she may not always understand some of my decisions, she’s never left my side. I mentioned before in my post about friendship, about finding these people in your life, and when I take a second to acknowledge it, I do really have many who have stood by me through thick and thin. Or thin and thin, whatever. Ella, if you’re reading this, I’m full of admiration and pride seeing you develop yourself and excited to continue to watch you flourish.

I’ve been thinking a lot about time these days. It feels like it’s moving quicker than ever, waiting for no one, yet somehow staying with everyone. Our trusty, lifelong companion, a toxic one at times, it walks beside you whilst slyly gripping the back of your neck and digging its fingers in, reminding us of the control we don’t have. When I was living in London, I felt like I was chasing hour after hour. I looked at the time so much it was paralyzing me. It chilled me to the bone, that thought of running out, the 00 00 on the gambling machine, no more coins, you’re going to kick the bucket soon. It’s funny because it’s so cliché. I lived with little fear and no concept of the past or future until I took a few blows in life. But once you start wishing you could change the past, you get totally lost and alas, the present moment is gone. I’m only 26. I’ve got heaps of life left ahead, provided it goes smoothly as I am aware it can change in a second. As much as we have a certain amount of sovereignty, there are events unfolding that we have no power over.

This left me in an endless loop. But now, I feel that yes, I’m not going to catch it and that’s fine, because I know we’ll always be friends. It’s infinite and somewhat of an illusion. My time within this body is limited, yet my consciousness lives on, something I am still learning to lean into and begin to appreciate.

Despite having all the space I could ever want, I’ve found myself feeling uninspired and bored at times. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. It’s just that I can’t help but not know what to do sometimes. I’ve been swimming, partying, meeting people, snorkeling, free diving, exercising, singing, cooking, dancing, laughing, eating, thinking. The list goes on. But when all of that comes to a halt, when I find myself in the silence of being still, it almost becomes haunting. I have never experienced the true quiet. Not internally, not externally. It’s something I’m yet to explore and the thought is exhilarating.

The more I live in noise, the more I look forward to my solitude. No more seeking validation. No more needing to be in the center of attention. No more filling the gaps with clamor. Meanwhile ive taken a job with  Paspaley Pearls, the biggest and best pearling company in Australia. I’m proud, I’m happy. All that manifestation finally worked. It comes at random moments, in the shower looking through the porthole or when I’m on the top deck in the beating sun. I’ve been wanting this, praying for this exact moment. To be out at sea, somewhere tropical and hands-on with marine life. Here I am, doing exactly that.

We are a crew of about 25 people and our trips go for seven or more days at a time. We process the spat, a smaller oyster that will later be implanted and produce pearls. Harvest season is supposed to be the best, with longer stretches at sea but good money in the bank. I’m not there yet but I’m curious to see whether I thrive in manual labor. I’m fairly fit and active and if I’m anything like my father, it’s the best choice for me. I’d love to share more about what we do on the boat, but I can’t write too much about how Paspaley does it, as that is their best-kept secret and is why they continue to come out on top in the industry. It’s a hard job. My hands hurt, I’m callused, but my hair is wild, skin is tanned, and I feel excited to wake up to another day.

I can share more about relishing in the feeling of self-assurance. It seems to be warming my body more and more as the days go by. I find myself questioning myself less and becoming more confident in my voice and intentions. It feels pretty good. It feels right, especially when there was a time I never thought this day would come. I thought I would be living in a constant state of fear and confusion. But the work pays off indeed. There’s no striving for perfection in my life. There’s only working step by step to transmute and transform the cards I’ve been dealt. I’m not racing to the next destination in the physical or the spiritual. All in due time, as the wise ones say. It’s about time I started to listen.

My experience doing free diving before heading out of Southeast Asia was a huge step in the direction of connection to the self and my own body. It’s something I’ve always dreamed of trying. A few years ago, my mum and I shared some thoughts about it, wondering what it would be like and whether I’d be any good. Since I can remember, underwater activities were at the top of my fun-things-to-do list. And while I never pursued any ultimate goal with it, it’s a passion I never lost or forgot about. So I finally took a step towards it. While I was in Koh Tao, I took three open water free diving lessons with Kaizen Free Diving School, one of the more alternative dive schools on the island, super elegant, fun, and well-managed.

I felt like a kid again. My eyes were wide with nerves and wonder as I took small and cautious steps toward my first class. Little did I know I was about to discover a world beyond comprehension. Free diving, unlike scuba diving, is done on a single breath. It relies on equalizing the pressure as you descend, but more than anything, it depends on staying calm. You train your body to hold that breath and learn to recognize that what you’re feeling is not oxygen leaving your body, but carbon dioxide entering it. With each meter you swim downward, you equalize the pressure in your ears by holding your nose and gently blowing out, just like you would on a plane when your ears are blocked. The technique used is so majestic, so beautiful. I would love to try again.

Since I had sinus pain and frequent moments of panic, I wasn’t able to reach past seven meters. This upset me quite a bit since it stopped me gaining a full certificate for the ten meters completion. It’s okay though. I’ve never been one to lose my cool if I lost a game or didn’t finish something. I’m quite aloof that way, not caring if I win or lose most of the time, which has made me too comfortable around my passions, letting them flit by me like butterflies. And if I feel like catching one for a moment, I will. Otherwise, daily experiences satisfy me enough. I find joy and fulfillment in going to the supermarket, for God’s sake. I wish I had that drive though, that never-ending competitive streak. I’d be a millionaire by now, or something else considered great.

Anyway, free diving is something that commands your stillness, technique, and complete trust in your body. I found myself locked in fear when staring down into the nothingness, the depth, the infinite ocean. But I’m itching to try again. Consistency, as my dad always says, is what pays off. Without consistency, you’re just a jelly that never stays in the fridge quite long enough. Having an empathetic and patient instructor helped a lot, and with one more day I am sure I could’ve reached ten meters. It just wasn’t my time to go that deep, clearly.

If you haven’t heard of or seen much about free diving, here is a video that captures the magic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQd3spGMshI

 Fast forward, I savored my last moments in Thailand and Vietnam. Dragons, lanterns and polite bows of the head were no more as I touched down in Darwin, NT, Australia. Darwin is wide, flat and rough. Southeast Asia was lush, humming through me its coiling vibration and wrapping me up in spicy rhythms. I haven't explored anywhere else in Australia yet as I'm set to be on the boat until December, which should be if not already is a transformative experience.

Darwin is on the edge, edge of the continent, edge of the tropics. Papua New Guinea and Bali are closer than Sydney. It used to be called Larrakia Country and was inhabited by saltwater people, Aboriginal groups whose ancestral ties are to the sea. Those mangroves tell stories, you can feel it. Darwin is not polished. It's sweaty and unfiltered, charcoal outback, heat-hazed sand and a sea so turquoise it’s hypnotizing. It’s the wild north and a meeting point for workers, explorers and those who don't fit into the fake smiles of the Gold Coast or the hipster stache epidemic in Melbourne. I like it here. It quenches my thirst for adventure just enough to stick around for now.

The path right now is unclear, but I'm ready to surf that tidal wave and give it everything I've got.