I know that title is making you think I’m only a year away from the big bad thirty.
I’m thinking that too.
In my mind though, I still feel like that 23-year-old girl at the edge of something. Equally confused about what I want to do with my life. Equally restless. A drifter.
You’d think that my life of travel has revealed some deep answers. That I have the mysteries of happiness or existence somewhat figured out. That my head is not a giant mess of what ifs and what will bes. Truth be told, this life of travel is really a path of questions.
But this is not that post.
Even though I unnoticeably flipped my life calendar to 29 a few weeks ago, the little voices within me wouldn’t go unnoticed. This is what they had to say:
On the ‘wow’ feeling
People often ask me if after all these years of traveling, I find myself less amazed by the wonders of the world. Of course, wandering amid the German Alps in winter, or the white sand beaches of Zanzibar, or the endless tea plantations of Himachal could wow anyone. But my heart still skips a beat for the simple things: a solitary sunset, the earthy aroma of a pine forest, the warmth of an unlikely friendship. Till that ‘wow’ feeling doesn’t fade away, I feel like I’ll continue my traveling ways.
Also read: The Joy of Slow Travel
My first reaction is to flee at the idea of committing to something – a long term project, a place I’ve come to love, an image of the future – for fear that it might bind me down and clip my wings, or that I might get bored and restless and ridden with guilt for not seeing it through. But when I look back, I realize I’ve unknowingly stuck around with things that matter to me. Blogging, veganism, a relationship. So in the last of my twenties, I feel like I’m on my way to get rid of this commitment phobia, focus on meaningful long-term work… and (hopefully) see it through.
Also read: 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Me
You must think I’m crazy to have been laying out alone under a starry sky on a farm in Maharashtra, as the world celebrated the beginning of 2017. Or outright weird for having turned 29 surrounded by the snowclad Dhauladhar range in Himachal, without a word to my hosts. I guess that inexplicable desire to revel in one’s own company doesn’t feature on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, but the ones who feel it too, know that it is real. For the ones who don’t, I’m okay with being the crazy, strange one.
When I reconnected with my college housemate after a long time, she from the ‘thirties club’ and me from the ‘almost thirty club’, realized we’re both living the same mantra these days: Accept and move on. Our paths might be different, but this feeling that we don’t have to conform to the ways of the world around us, is the same. I’ve spent many sleepless nights contemplating my rebellious, socially inept, escapist ways, and wondering why my folks more people aren’t wired that way. But I have to accept that just like my wiring is not anyone else’s business, no one’s wiring is mine. Accept and move on.
Also read: 10 Life Lessons From 2 Years of Travelling
An intense feeling of gratitude washed over me as I lay inebriated during an Ayahuasca ceremony, deep in the Amazonian forests of Ecuador – and became a recurrent theme in the months that followed. These days, I often look back at my journey so far in amazement, and marvel at how the universe conspired, in the best and worst of times, to help me shape the life I aspired to.
And so even if my existential dilemmas often leave me drowning, I’ve learnt to swim to the surface with gratitude. I am incredibly lucky for the cards I’ve been dealt, and more importantly, the hand I’ve been able to play. I feel more grateful now than ever, for my rebellious side, the philosophies I’ve come to believe in, the horizons I’ve woken up to, and the people I’ve shared them with.
Any pearls of wisdom for this 29-year-old?
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