A weekend in Brissy

I woke up Saturday morning to clear skies and sunshine. I say that as if it’s unusual for Brisbane, a city where the license plates read “sunshine state.” …The irony after being in Florida for five years. Somehow, I keep finding myself in sunshine states.

 
Excited to see more of Brisbane, I set out to explore different parts of the city. First, a street called James Street in Fortitude Valley, which seems to be known for high end boutiques and brunch – I could see myself going here with my sister and brother – in – law regularly. A quality cup of coffee, avocado toast with lemon and arugula, and shopping? Yes, please. At one point, I was holding a plain white t shirt with a price tag of $185…but I’m still interested. 🙂 …. Later in this blog, I will write about how I want less stuff. Which makes this contradictory, yet perfectly representative of how I want nothing and everything all at once. Makes perfect sense, I know.

 
Then, I explored the West End, which is called “quirky” by most, and seemed younger, edgier and almost a bit grungy – you know, hipsters, vegans, breweries, vintage shops, and real book stores. ……Some of us millennials like outdated things like real pages to turn.

 
Here, there was no shortage of fantastic, unruly hair (which, if you know me, will cause me to stop and stare, deer – in – headlights style as if I’m being charmed by a snake charmer), and some real live hippies. I smiled as I walked by a girl with dreads twirling a hula hoop in front of a corner store while her bare foot boyfriend played his guitar with his band of misfits and a sign in front which read “be excellent to each other.”

 
I liked both places very much. Different and with their own unique charm – I can see myself frequenting both while I’m here.

 
Then I walked to South Bank, where the city was packed with people at something called “Regional Flavours” – Brisbane’s Food and Wine Festival in the Parklands. There were venders everywhere, and music played nearby by a local acoustic artist. Close by was a market called Collective Markets, where local vendors sell jewelry, clothes, art, etc. I bought some fun things made by local artists.

 
Here I also saw a street performer, with a unicycle, flaming torches, and an Australian charm that seems to be a collective national characteristic full of wit, charisma and charm.

 

Sunday morning, I woke up and accepted an invitation to a photography exhibition from a barista at a local café. Most days before training, I wander around the corner to an Italian café to get a medium long black, and I chat with the guy behind the counter. He asked me to join him and a friend – I chose to practice my new mantra of “just say yes.”

 

Many lessons, from one small encounter. First, look what happens when you actually talk to people instead of rushing about pretending like you’re too busy, avoiding any eye contact and sending off vibes of “don’t talk to me.” And for reasons, I’m still unsure of. Fear? Anxiety? Introversion? A general sense of “it’s weird to talk to strangers?” Second, the test to just go. And third, a lesson from him – the kind stranger who was confident and vulnerable enough to extend an invitation.

 

The exhibit was a world journalism exhibit. It was beautiful, and Sunny and his friend were lovely. Artsy, creative types – both with kind eyes that hold histories, inviting both questions and curiosity.

 
In a new city, surrounded by new conversation, new landscapes, new art, lots of energy and endless walking, there is ample time to think. And I spent a lot of time thinking,

 
….I found myself thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

 
Thinking of how I overthink.

 
Thinking of how the best things transpire when I don’t.

 
Thinking of how life will unfold, and sometimes our only responsibility is to pay attention and respond.

 
Thinking of how trying to control is my autopilot response, but how limiting that is.
My knowledge, experience, and wisdom are limited – God’s, the Universe’s, whatever you want to call it is vast. Unknown. And if I believe that God is a good God, and a God who loves me and wants what is best for me, why wouldn’t I embrace the unknown, and let life happen. …Just roll with it. …. Like the girl with the hula hoop.

 
I spent time thinking of how simplicity always brings color to my life.

 
The rebellion of not overthinking Australia. Simplistic Thinking.

 
The small closet in my room here with such a shortage of “stuff.” Yet, I’m finding I feel clearer, less anxious, freer. Maybe stuff makes me nervous? Maybe I don’t know how to remain unattached? And I don’t even have a lot of stuff, you guys! I’m practically a poor person. I own a car. No house. No grand bank accounts. No diamonds or jewels. Just a heap of endless shit at home in my tiny apartment.

 

Maybe it’s just the fear of losing stuff that keeps me from waning stuff.

 

I don’t have it figured out just yet – I just know I feel better with less. …. But I have a tendency to purse more. I’m drawn to the $185 plain white t shirt, but also ok walking away from it.

 

Maybe we all fall into the trap of consumerism and materialism. Maybe it’s a matter of recognizing our susceptibility in trying to fill that internal hole with things when it’s a spiritual problem.

 

Maybe it’s as simple as this is just where I’m at, in this moment. Wanting to live without things.

 
Simplicity right now looks like this:

 

Get invited? Say yes.

 

Screw up? Oh well.

 

Hurt someone’s feelings? Apologize sincerely.

 

Feel attracted? Let it happen.

 

Feel a connection? Explore it further.

 

Feel excited? Go with it.

 

Didn’t work out? Something better is coming.

 

An unexpected disappointment? Can’t control it.

 

Simplicity.

 

There is nothing to be accomplished or figured out with cyclical thinking. With running a feeling down every imaginable avenue.

 

If you are like me, you feel a lot. And you feel intensely. And you will both fail and exhaust yourself if you try to disassemble every feeling you have. Recognize it, feel it, respond to it, let it go. If it’s worth exploring for answers, you will know.

 

I also spent a great deal of time thinking about priorities. Prioritizing what we spend our thoughts on – our energy on.

 

God, the time, energy, thoughts, and soul I’ve given to things that aren’t worthy. Wasted.

 

I’ve prioritized people who don’t prioritize me. I’ve been loyal to people who haven’t been loyal to me. I’ve wanted to include people in my experiences, when…I’m starting to think…. they don’t get that right. They don’t get to come along on every adventure…on every encounter.

 

I’ve loved people who haven’t loved me in return. And while, I don’t think we choose who we love, I think we can choose what we do with it. At the end of the day, we have to choose ourselves.

 

Most of my life, this has made me so uncomfortable. The idea of choosing myself. I thought it was selfish. And now I see, that there’s a certain amount of self-preservation here. If we find ourselves loving someone or something that isn’t good for our well-being,  then we are faced with questions of “do I love myself more? Enough to walk way? Enough to care for myself first?”

 

For a long, long time, at my own detriment I would have martyred myself in the name of love. And now I realize – there is nothing noble about this. What’s noble? Saying I love you, but I love me too. And I am worthy of being loved in return. Furthermore, what I have to offer is good, and meaningful and someone else worthy deserves what I have.

 

It’s ok to choose yourself.

 

It’s ok to say “I love you, but in this case, I love me more.”

 
…Give yourself to people. But within right order. And by right order I mean, according to reciprocated expressions of importance and love.

 

Have the courage to invite love and offer invitation, but walk the other way when the RSVP reads “unavailable.”

 

Why? Because you are deserving. And if that goes unrecognized, you have been mistaken is assuming that you’ve found your person.

 

I think the bravest among us understand what it means to love. To give compliments. To be gut wrenchingly honest – about themselves, their feelings, their failures and fears, their desires. They share themselves and their souls. But, when it comes to interpersonal relationships, the bravest among us also know how to set and keep boundaries. The bravest among us, know how to love and accept themselves first. That is why they are able to put themselves out there in the world. Wholly, authentically, and honestly.

 

I don’t know why I’m writing this publicly. But I am. And I’m going to continue to, without reason, only knowing it feels right. It feels like it’s all part of whatever journey I’m on. Maybe healing. Maybe it’s the return to who I really am.  All I know, is that It feels like my chest is being ripped open, with entry in and a giant declaration of “Here I am. This is me, and I’m ok. “ And maybe just maybe, if you are reading,  you can relate. Maybe you understand. Maybe you can say, “me too.”