So I disappeared for a while.
Inside my head, and also to the other side of the world, then to the other other side of the world, then back to the other side of the world, and finally back to this end of the world, which is basically the end of the world. (yes, it means my carbon footprint is massive this year. But I plant trees for a living. What the hell are you doing?)
I had left this end of the world with the straightforward idea that, elsewhere, I would be able to figure it out. You know, it. Turns out ‘elsewhere’ does not enable you to figure it out. Yet for some strange reason, in time – and after you’ve already backtracked to that point where you initially started from – things do figure themselves out.
And usually not in the way you thought they would.
When I first signed up for this end of the world, it was because of a denied research visa and well, a boy. When I finally got here, I had received the research visa after all and I was no longer talking to the boy. Instead, I got propelled into a career which miraculously enough does not just consist of evaluating plans and writing reports. I get to work hard and get shit done. The fruit of my labour sits there. It may not be much, but it’s tangible and measurable. And it’s growing.
It’s not easy. In fact, it’s bloody hard work. It includes frustration, anger, disappointment and even rage. So much you start doubting yourself, asking yourself, What the hell are you doing?
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?
DOING? DOING? DOING? DOING?
ARE YOU REALLY TRYING? AS HARD AS YOU CAN? REALLY? REALLY?
Bang. You’ll figure it out.
On to the next.