Don’t Forget to Just Simply Be

Over summer, I fled the big city life and headed home to sleepy, wide-open skied Christchurch. It sure had been a year of turbulence, ups and downs and all arounds.

It was as I stepped off the plane and on to solid ground, I finally felt free from the heavy stressful weight that had become university and life itself. I had let it all go, 30,000 ft above the earth. Memories, tears and fears just fading into the clouds. 

Summer for me was a time to relax, to find some chill, to let myself flow along with life, peacefully and at ease. 

After a year of drowning in thoughts and feelings, I decided to not think too much and to just simply enjoy the present. 

And it was getting lost in the present, that one day, I found myself spontaneously in the depths of our study. I think the original goal was to do some cleaning (???).

A few hours in and I discovered our study was overrun with rich memories of adventures and travels. I pulled out red-bound albums full of printed photos of my parents. Dad on a train heading deep into the mines of Yugoslavia, Mum twirling in a field of flowers, with Swiss mountains standing watch and deep green trees of fir framing the picture.

All taken on film camera, 35mm. All printed out and lovingly preserved for the curious likes of me to discover. 

But one of the best finds was to be found later. Buried within a big brown box, hidden beneath leaflets, pens, trinkets and numerous bits and pieces, was a notebook. A5 in size, lined pages yellowed with time, it was full of my Dad's boyish handwriting. 

Written in 1985, he had journalled his and my mum's travels through Europe. Each day was documented. From interactions with the locals, trips back through time to view preserved relics of history, trying marvelous foods and dreaming over fish stalls in marketplaces, tasting the local beverages to descriptions of mum's potentially dodgy driving in their van, my Dad wrote it all down, cementing the little things, that can easily be forgotten, in history.

They either stayed in campsites or freedom camped. Dinner was made on a little stove cooker, but more often than not was brought in the numerous village markets, cafes and restaurants they passed through.

At a restaurant in Greece, there were no menus, rather the waiter took them in to the kitchen, where "Mama" showed them what was cooking and available. Next thing, they were dining on stuffed peppers and a Greek salad with feta. "Mama" came out and gave them a free beer on the house. A while later, the restaurant got busy, they investigated and it turned out to be "Pappa's" birthday! They were welcomed in and ended the night with drinks and cake!

It was in Greece too, where my Dad discovered snorkeling...something to become a long-time hobby and joy of his. For so long they'd been travelling next to the clear blue inviting waters of the Mediterranean Sea and numerous times my Dad had mentioned about wishing he had some goggles and a snorkel! The day he finally decided to treat himself, he discovered a small reef and fish of every size and colour everywhere, dashing through the waves. He even spotted a small squid hiding under a rocky shelf, "you couldn't keep me from the water any longer as I explored this whole new world," he said. 

They spent their days driving and walking and wandering through ancient and new streets, in between market stalls, through castle doors, up hilly fields, along museum corridors and deep into mines. They explored and met many people along the road, fellow travelers and locals alike. They sunbathed in the sun, read books and listened to tapes. 

A map was all they had to guide them through these unknown countries. In Turkey they discovered that a map they had was useless, so they pulled over at a garage to figure out "where in the devil" they were. As soon as my dad opened the car door, a man from a balcony above them yelled down in heavily accented English, "obviously recognising "tourists in distress."" The garage didn't sell maps, however this man from the balcony came down to the car, where he happily pointed out where they were and gifted the map to them as a present! In return, he got a New Zealand tea-towel. 

They wrote postcards home and only spoke to their parents once or twice throughout the whole journey of several months.

It was in the middle of reading this story, my mind day dreaming of buying the earliest plane ticket possible to somewhere overseas (most likely Canada, because ski season there = dreams come true), that a thought struck me...

My parents, during their travels, were always completely in the moment. Of course their minds would have drifted ahead and behind, but the circumstances and their environment grounded them to exploring the life they were living at that very second.

Plus, they didn't have a cellphone to be distracted by!

This thought started to grow and I began to wonder whether technology and social media is making our life experience better or actually just distracting us from the now.

When you go on an adventure somewhere, how often do you get out your phone, take 50 photos and then share with the world via. instagram and snapchat that you're out there doing cool things? 

For sure, it's so great to be able to easily capture memories, I'm a photographer and my fingers are mostly always glued to the shutter. And by sharing our memories we can inspire others.

But when you're out somewhere beautiful and you're taking a photo, are you taking the photo for the memory or already thinking ahead for positing it on instagram? 

Also technology is amazing as you can stay in touch with people all over the world, you don't have to rely on postcards once a month. But how often are you checking your phone for messages throughout your daily life?

During my parents travels, all they had were books, a film camera where each shot was precious, and each other.

And that's all they needed.

Content and happy, my parents didn't worry about the lives of others and what other people thought of them, they were just simply enjoying their own beautiful life.

I finalllly finished Dad's notebook a few days ago - back in Wellington and with university having started again, already life had taken over my time for reading - and I couldn't help but feel nostalgic for those more simpler times.

I learnt so much from this book.

Life is always bombarding us with thoughts and experiences. We get so focused on the things that have to be done that we become lost in the hallways of the past and in the maze of the future. Social media connects us all the time and draws us into the labyrinths of others lives as well, friends and family as well as strangers.

So this is my reminder to you...

Take a step back.

Slow down.

And just simply be.

Be in the moment, be with who you are right now.

Do not let the swift current of life pull you along, rapids blinding you and making you miss the special little moments.

Choose instead to lightly float and go with the gentle flow.

Avoid the dark hallways of the past and the confusing changing maze of the future, choose instead to be distracted so much by the now, that you get lost in it.

Get lost in your feet tapping upon the earth as you walk. Get lost in the blue sky that wraps itself around you. Get lost tracing the faces of those who pass you by. Get lost in the music filling you up and making every atom want to dance.

Feel your heart beat and breathe.

You are alive and everything is just fine.

(Damn fine honey).

p.s in honour of all the film photos my parents took, here are a few snaps of my own precious moments.