Getting Lost

I am on a journey of self discovery, a journey to ‘find myself’ so to speak. And what have I discovered? Well, to put it in a way that a contemporary audience would understand:

Nothing. I know less about myself now than I did at 17- and that’s saying something. At 30 I thought I’d have it all together, not necessarily a house, kids and the husband to match, but at least that I could describe myself- really describe myself- in three words.

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Yup, still drawing a blank.

So, as I sit here with my raw vegan mud cake and my matcha latte why not surmise what’s on my mind?

I am in Canggu in Bali right now. After being the ‘always had a goal’ gal I decided to quit my great job working internationally in Bangkok and become a backpacker without any plans. Yup, oldest backpacker in the world. I’m still convinced that it is BAGpacker because all you do it pack and repack your bags! And don’t get me started on the packing process because I can’t even find my underwear never mind myself!

I thought about going for an inspirational post: discuss my yoga and meditation, share the lessons from the healer I saw yesterday, reminisce about the calm I feel looking out over a cliff top…but this is not how it is flowing for me right now so I thought I’d attempt ‘funny’, feel free to criticise me if I fail miserably.

The truth is I’ve had an opportunity to do yoga a million times a day and I’ve done it about five; I attempted to be a vegetarian but the chicken sate got me every time; I aimed to start every day with a morning jog and it has happened one and a half times (how does the half even happen?); I saw a healer and my restless legs got me irritated; I gave up coffee only to become addicted to matcha lattes; I planned to blog every day and this is my first post in six weeks…find yourself FAIL.

I have found myself (oh the irony!) wanting to scream because I don’t know who I am or what I want. Isn’t time away from everyone and everything supposed to bring clarity? Isn’t throwing off the shackles of a routine meant to bring a calm alertness to my mind? Isn’t all this chatter in my mind meant to ease with the soft blow of the wind through my sea swept hair?

Breathe.

I love an inspirational quote, ask any of my friends, my Instagram feed is full of them, I drive my friends crazy on Facebook with yet another daily dose of inspiration. I can also talk the talk, giving good advice and words of wisdom (or so I’ve been told.) My problem? Not following through with my own words. I am my biggest critic and I often compare myself to my past self- teenage Claire who knew it all and genuinely didn’t care what people thought. Am I not supposed to be lost at 17 and found at 30?

And there lies the problem…

The constant wondering, the constant thinking, and the constant questioning. I need to just shut up. The truth is I don’t need to have a 5 year plan, heck I don’t even have a 5 week plan! I don’t need to have any of the answers because as I desperately search for them life is slowly passing me by, breath by breath. I need to remember: I am not looking for something, I am experiencing everything.

So, there you are. I’m a metaphorical mess who needs to chill the chatter in my head by just doing things I enjoy and not wondering ‘where next?’ or ‘what next?’ or ‘who next?’ Because, my friends, the beauty of life is that we never know what is around the corner…so there is absolutely no point in looking.

Peace x

 

Bangkok Shopping: Bags of Bluntness

Bangkok is a great city and the people- for the most part- are wonderful. But *beware* they are honest, and not the good kind of honest (hence the warning.) Maybe honest isn’t the right word. Blunt. Yes that’s the word. Blunt. Brutally so. Shopping is definitely one thing that highlights this brutal ‘honesty’.

I love shopping. Fashion is my thing. I like to have my own style and I revel in the shopping experience. Thailand, however, has changed that.

The dread that creeps in when my wardrobe needs a sprucing up is now too familiar…Heaven forbid I need a new pair of shoes!

I’m a size 10…just about. And 5 foot 7 and a 1/2 inches tall. My feet? A size 7, so all in all I’m in proportion. In the Western World I feel comfortable with that, and feel confident shopping for my size. How do I feel when shopping in Thailand? Like an oversized green giant with whale fin feet to match!

As this green giant waddles into a shop, more often than not I turn right back on my heels as I am greeted with shouts of: “No have big size”, “We have big size!” and most irritating of all, “Look stretch!” As I’m staring at the widest pair of trousers I have ever seen sprawling from arm to arm of this matchstick sales woman I shake my head and sigh: clearly she’d rather hand out an insult than have me hand her my money.

I know what you’re thinking, “Poor self conscious girl, unable to carry out her shopping excursion.” Maybe once. Maybe once I hung my head and stared down at my fictional green giant, whale finned body; maybe once I apologised for the intrusion into a shop that was clearly not meant for ‘people like me’; maybe once I thought I should take that trip to the ladyboy shop for my obese feet. Maybe once. But those days are long gone.

No longer do I shy away from these comments, or make excuses that I’m looking in this shop for my much younger, much thinner, small footed, make-believe sister. Now? Now I wear my thick skin, laugh at their ignorance, and walk out of the shop with that tight, sequenced dress that I hope fits me one day.