Ups and downs

When I was preparing for this - jaunt, adventure, mid-life crisis version umpteenth, whatever it is called - I warned myself not to expect everything to be perfect. Because life isn't. Perfect. And I'm glad I pre-warned myself, because not everything has gone to plan.

Take the lady on the plane who inconveniently decided to have a heart attack just after we'd flown over Sri Lanka. Oh wait, we'd better make an unscheduled stop at Colombo. Doesn't matter that it causes us to land two hours late at Abu Dhabi and we miss the connecting flights to Dublin, then Edinburgh. Its okay to enter the UK in Manchester instead of Dublin, isn't it? Flying FlyBE to Edinburgh, who announce the gate about 10 minutes or so before boarding time. With me lugging my baggage seemingly from one end of the airport to another.

Or take my carefully organised access to cash with a Cash Passport card. I dutifully transferred most of my available cash to it and changed it online into British Pounds. Because I was told the PIN can't be changed, I carefully recorded it in a secret location, then filed the original advice deep in my records in the storeroom at home. Then when I landed in Edinburgh I went to retrieve my PIN number... and it had disappeared, vamoose, apparently gone forever. I could order another card, but in the meantime... thank goodness for credit cards, shame about the exchange penalties.

Or my attempts to set up a bank account. "So sir, do you have a passport?" "Yes". "And do you have a second means of identification, like a driver's licence?" "Yes". "And do you have proof of your address, like a rental agreement, or utility bill?" "Will a mobile phone account do?" "No". "Well, actually, no I don't have proof of my address". "Well sir, when you do, come back and see us". She was very polite and professional. But apparently helpless in the face of the bank's policies and procedures.

I could go on.

Thankfully, I did get to Edinburgh in one piece, albeit seven hours late. And I have managed to retrieve my PIN through the very helpful people at Cash Passport. And I have found a far more accommodating bank (HSBC) that is willing to allow me to use the address on my licence as my "home" address, and my address in Edinburgh as a correspondence address.

Through all of this and more, I have been thankful that I am educated (although some may doubt it), that I speak the same language as those with whom I am dealing/negotiating/arguing/pleading (although at times I doubt it), and that I have access to secure accommodation and alternative forms of cash. As I reflect on this, I am humbled as I consider the tenacity and courage of the refugee or migrant for whom the opposite of all these factors is so often true.

Friends

Most of my adult life has been spent away from my immediate family - my siblings tend to be scattered by geographic and personal difference. This has led me to rely on friends that I have developed in whatever location I have happened to find myself, for companionship, mentoring and, at times, for rescue. In places disparate as Melbourne, Canberra, Sydney, and more recently Northern NSW. Over the years I have developed friendships based upon mutual interests. Many of these friends have remained close. Some have faded into the background only to resurface when opportunity arises. Others have moved into my life and passed naturally out again as circumstances dictate.

Often friendship networks are taken for granted. We don't necessarily think "I wonder what would happen if that person wasn't in my life?", and nor should we. It is enough to enjoy their presence.

The last week or so has been personally instructive as I have prepared to depart Australia. I have enjoyed many "farewell" meals with friends and discussed what it means to uproot oneself and travel 150 degrees around the world, along with canvassing mechanisms available to allow us to remain in touch. I have been surprised by friends who I have known for years butt haven't spent much time with recently, and yet who have taken the time to seek out an opportunity to "break bread". I have been humbled by the concern of some who have offered material support prior to my departure or in the event of a future emergency. Mostly I have been gladdened by the reality that my life is rich in companionship and love.

It is usually only in circumstances of imminent departure that we have the opportunity to review our networks of love and care. Too often that opportunity is an end-of-life necessity foisted upon us by fate. I have the privilege to experience this as a result of my own desire for an adventure that happens to create a separation from those I love for an indefinite period of time.

If you are a friend who happens to be reading this, I would like to thank you for being in my life. I look forward to many years of friendship, whether in close proximity or from afar.

"You leapt into the abyss, but find
It only goes up to your knees" 

So goes Nick Cave's song "Babe, you turn me on". 

This year has I have experienced a number of personal and professional leaps into the abyss, but like Nick Cave's song goes, have found it has only gone up to my knees. 

The two great motivators for change are discomfort and opportunity. In the first case, we sometimes find ourselves in situations which aren't so terrible that we are compelled to get away, yet we know deep within that we are not satisfied, fulfilled or content. We remain in the situation, motivated by hope for a better future, or for fear of a future unknown, or maybe a combination of both. And so time rolls on, the situation remains unsatisfying at best, damaging at worst. 

In the case of the other change motivator, sometimes an opportunity is so potentially satisfying that we are prepared to sacrifice all that we have for the treasures that await. In this circumstance change is not seen as negative, but exciting, invigorating and life affirming.

For many people, the opportunity motivator is the less likely of the two scenarios outlined above. Far more common is the brooding sense of unfulfillment and dissatisfaction. I know it has been for me.

My leaps into the abyss commenced early in 2012, and are culminating in less than a week as I prepare to leave the country for an indeterminate period. 

Why am I doing this? The motivation goes back a long way - 37 years. As a young man I dreamed of travelling to the United Kingdom and elsewhere. At the age of 19, my love for a young lady derailed my intentions, and so I shelved my plans, became married and started a family. From that point onwards family responsibilities, insecurities and lack of opportunity kept me in Australia. Don't misunderstand me - I take full responsibility for my choices in life. In retrospect I am very aware that I could have made different ones. It is just that finally I am in the life situation where I can do the things I could have, or should have, done many years ago. It is interesting that some of the same themes that I experienced so long ago have arisen this time around, forcing me to consciously work through insecurities and relationships issues  uncannily reminiscent of so long ago.

I don't know how long I will be gone - hence the one way ticket. It may be a few months, or longer. I don't know what awaits me, good or ill. I only know that I am doing something I have waited 37 years to do. And it seems that the abyss only comes up to your knees.