Long time, no see.

Hey there. Guess what, I am finally back from a few months of silence.

As you all know, in November last year, I moved to little old New Zealand and have been rather busy with settling into my new life. So, after that eerie period, I’m dusting away those cobwebs to write this piece.

It’s funny how you very quickly settle into a space you know so well. I grew up in New Zealand, in my small town aside the ocean, and to be reunited with it after 4 years came easier than expected. Before I left London, I always got the “it’ll hit you after a while, you’ll miss the hustle of London.” – well, I’m here to tell you, I don’t.

And honestly, I don’t miss it at all. I thought I would; miss the traffic, the busyness, the cafe ridden streets, the atmosphere, but I simply don’t. However, the one thing I do long for, is hangouts with my cosmopolitain friends; the work pals; I met some of the best people in the world in London; I just don’t long for the place itself.

This did come as a surprise to me. I expected myself to struggle with small town living at least for a little while, to regret ‘giving up’ (for better the word) London for a simpler way of life, but I’ve come to realise that New Zealand kinda suits me. I thrive on exercise, and fresh air, and devour outdoor spaces. I’ve caught up with old friends, explored new places, rediscovered my love for cooking and creativity, joined a band; the open space of New Zealand, has allowed me to fill it with more fulfilling activities. There’s something special about this country, and I cannot wait for my London-made friends to come and visit me, so I can show them too.

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It definitely takes leaving a place, to find the appreciation.

It’s cheesy, and the same sentence has probably been said in a million different ways, but it’s true. I left thinking I was too big for the small life, that New Zealand was boring and not good enough for the life I thought I desired. In reality I just didn’t know how to live yet.

I went to London and it was there I learnt how to live. I discovered myself through trials, tribulations, tears and smiles. And that person, this person I became, ended up craving a bigger space to breathe and grow. London suffocated me. It’s definitely a big city, but it’s also hugely populated. I listened to my body, and it was telling me I needed to move on – it’s funny how perfectly, gloriously, accurate your gut instincts can be. Researchers are discovering that microbes in our gut can send messages and important brain chemicals to our brain, affecting how we think, feel, and remember. Well, my theory is that so do your lungs. Breathe the air you should breathe, and you exhale happiness.

I don’t quite know how to explain it, but I just know that New Zealand air is my kind of air. I encourage you to find yours.

Cafe #4

The café in which I sit is so similar to what I’m used to, yet it’s so different. It’s a standard chain you’d find anywhere in London; the selection of drinks to the branded coffee cups, same.  The coffee shops I usually sit in are infested with business suits, men and woman having meetings with their ear pieces. I’m usually the youngest amongst those who are using the space as an office, or are having a lunch break. Here, it’s a student city. There are students everywhere, and in my ray of vision, I can only spot one person who could be past the age of 30. It’s weird being amongst people my own age. I often find myself immersed in activities with those older than I – poetry readings, libraries, or simply cafés which are clearly in boroughs that don’t typically host the youth.  I feel as if, sitting here typing this,  I could be mistaken for one of them. One of the kids who went on to study more,  one of the kids spending further years of their life dedicated to books; one of the kids with direction – potential or intentional. But I’m not. I’ve tried to be that person, giving up my creativity for the regime of tests and assignments, and it wasn’t for me.

Success can be found in many ways. You can get brain washed into thinking that the degree is what they want, that the piece of paper before you is what’ll make them pick you over them. This could be true, but it’s not something I’d wholeheartedly agree with. I suppose I’m talking about the arts; I know that a Doctor has to have some form of training, amongst many other professions. Props to them, takes serious smarts and dedication to get a profession such as that. In terms of painting, writing, acting, even some office jobs, I don’t believe you need to spend thousands of pounds to get a piece of paper to prove you can do it. A piece of paper isn’t proof of passion.

I’m sitting here, amongst those who are working towards that. That piece of paper, that proof of their ability to learn. I sit here and I have no stress, no deadline  – I have liberation and a clear mind. I see essays scattered on the bench tops, I see headphones blocking out distractions, I see students in heavy discussion. I sit here with my computer, I wear headphones so I can groove as I type, I text my friends about how their Mondays are going so far.

I’m not envious of the students in this café, but I can appreciate their dedication. Just don’t lose your passion amongst the deadlines kids. Have an impassioned direction in life, and don’t lose it for a grade.