(Kansas) “Welcome back to reality,” the nurse across from me cackles. My knuckles are white from pressure and I’m afraid that if I walk away it’ll be straight out the front doors.
What does that even mean, anyway? Welcome back to reality? New Zealand was pretty real for me. I’ve got a messed forearm tendon and a missing big toenail to prove it. War wounds, as Tim would say.
The air in the department is rippled by a symphony of some maniacal orchestra that replaced their traditional instruments with buzzers, bleepers and screaming children. The woman in front of me is still talking and I’m hoping that if I stand for long enough I’ll get my answer. Something like that thing with the thousand monkeys typing on a thousand typewriters and eventually producing Shakespeare. Or maybe it was that they never would – I can’t remember. I’ve never been good at figuring out probabilities.
I’ve had a bit of pressure to write this last blog entry. To wrap things up. I’ve been procrastinating up until this moment. It’s been almost a month since I’ve come back home. There are moments where it’s felt as though I’d never left but for the most part I think my trip to the other end of the world has done a lot in terms of changing the sort of person I am. And certainly there have been enough changes here at home that remind me of the length of time I’ve been away.
I spent the last few weeks in Punakaiki saturated by a viscous anticipation. And of course with me, no emotion is complete without a healthy dose of guilt. I really loved my time in New Zealand – in those moments where I had time to get to know her but there were a lot of things that I discovered I needed in order to feel happy with my life. Like a lower cost of living and the ability to visit home in under ten hours. But while I recognized these needs, I also felt terribly ungrateful for everything that the country had shown me. New Zealand was my first experience with rugged, isolated beauty. There were so many time when it was just me and Tim and mountains, or beaches or forest. Both Tim and New Zealand pushed my limits, physically and emotionally. And it’s nice to know where those limits really lie. And to know that I don’t need to keep pushing at them. Not everything needs to be driven to the breaking point. Settling isn’t always a bad thing.
I spent those ten months in New Zealand experiencing life in a way I never would have if I hadn’t been with Tim. Nature and I are more than just acquaintances now, let me tell you. And when work gets too loud and I close my eyes I can still see the sunset at Rangi Hut or watch Lou chase a stick or catch my breath when I feel Red flattening out into a gallop on the beach.
And when people ask me about the trip those are the things I tell them about. It’s one of those amazing things about travelling that once you’re on the other side of that gate you can glaze over the tears, the pain, the frustration and think of everything as the contributing elements that make you the person narrating today. So everything always sounds so rosy to everyone else.
I told Tim a while ago that I didn’t regret a single moment. And I hope he believes me. Every second spent there, comfortable or not, was exactly what I needed even if I didn’t ask for it. My life before I left wasn’t where it was supposed to be. My focus was hazy to say the least. But now I feel a sense of purpose and drive that I never experienced while trying to get into med school. It helps me at work while I wait for those thousand monkeys on their thousand typewriters. It’s pushing me all the way to London in October to stay with distant relatives I’ve never met before and check out their University.
Tim misses New Zealand. You can tell by his Facebook status. He misses the coffee (actually I do, too). He misses the mountains and the ocean and the fact that it’s only a three hour drive maximum to get from one to the other. He misses the outdoors, the adventure. The unpredictable independence. New Zealand had always been a better fit for him than for me. By the end of our time in Punakaiki he was often mistaken for a local.
I miss moments in New Zealand but I don’t have a desperate need to go back. I’m too excited about moving forward. I needed time and space to sit back from my life and really think about what I was trying to do with it. New Zealand provided plenty of both. And now that I feel like I’m finally heading in the right direction, I feel as though I can leave her behind.
But I will always be forever grateful.
