My time in Europe has wound down and part of me is sad, but relieved.
I know, a strange feeling to court, but this past summer was filled with back room dramas that I’m too exhausted to get into here.
Two consistent things occur to me when ever I’m in Europe — how beautiful it is and how much bad karma it brings me.
The other consistent thing is that no matter how foul my mood is, I always return to the beauty. I promise to provide some evidence of this beauty at a later date.
I just finished a weekend at Blogstock. You might have read I was going and speaking about how to market a creative brand (oh, and make money on it). These things are always a whirlwind, but overall it was a great experience. I enjoyed the mix of bloggers from different sectors, whether fashion or food, and the overall community atmosphere. I’d much rather work with people, instead of against them.
I also promise to publish my slides and the talk on Slideshare at a later date.
Tonight is about preparation. I’m packing my bags once more, sweeping away the metaphorical cobwebs and tomorrow I will be flying across bodies of water again, this time my destination is Costa Rica.
More specifically, I will be a volunteer writer-in-residence for about three months at Blue Osa Yoga and Retreat Spa!!
I’m always on the hunt for ways to travel creatively and this position will definitely be unique.
My work-in-trade position entails the use of my writing skills for a variety of things, either copy or blog writing, possibly even helping the owner Aaron Dolle with a memoir.
It’s exciting to hone my craft further, even more thrilling to see that writing can take a person far, something my teenage self would have scoffed at.
With my volunteer work I am given room and board, access to yoga everyday and a beach is only 50 metres away.
This opportunity came at the right moment. Lately I’ve been hurtling towards sheer exhaustion. And I feel listless, almost uninterested in the nuances of travel any longer.
A large part of me is pulled towards hiding under a fort of blankets and not think at all, while the other part sees the self I use to be, as though I peer at the ideal Jeannie through thick glass. That Jeannie is enamoured with exploration again, plotting unforgettable treks or feats of cultural connection that transcends basic language.
Slowing down for a few months feels like the remedy. I want to take moments one beat at a time again. To witness a place unfurl like a hand opening to reveal a hidden flower.
What rouses me are the rhythms of the ocean instead of a bellowing alarm. I’ll take a considered walk down to the beach, revel in the powdery sand turning wet from the tide waters ebbing and flowing.
As I dive into the salty water, maybe I’ll muse upon the color blue, it’s depths beyond what I can fathom, yet I yearn to sink into its mystery just the same.
And while my hair dries in the yoga studio, I’ll sway my spine towards the morning sky and hope that what happens is that I fall back in love with the exotic, to come alive and waken again.
I’ll inhale a sweet breath and begin a day of creating… That is the power of new places, new possibilities.