A Simple Life

It was a hot, hectic day back in 2005 when I was working as an emergency teacher in various schools in Melbourne, that the idea first came into my head. Or rather, the idea was already there but the events of that particular day brought it out of my head and into my reality; thus, it was hatched into action.

I was returning from a drive somewhere I don't really remember, maybe the beach. I often went there when life became too complicated and difficult. I went to be alone and to think with the help of the waves. Although the beach is an hour's drive from my house, it was always worth the hassle of going because after sitting at the water's edge I always felt refreshed; everything seemed clearer and problems didn't seem so insurmountable. It's hard to feel afraid when you're facing that blue. It speaks courage to your soul.

So anyway, I was driving through the nicest suburbs I could work out a route through to lessen my homeward-bound stress, and the heat, the sun, the traffic, the noise, my car's lack of an air-conditioner or radio and my lack of inner peace suddenly got to me. I thought, 'What am I doing here? This is crazy! I'm spending the best hours of my life stuck in a little metal box on a road full of toxins of every kind. I've got to get out of here!' At that moment, even my grandmother's little village in Greece seemed like a paradise compared to this daily chaos. Something inside me snapped and I stopped the car at the side of the road next to the next phone box I came across. I got out, grabbed a phone book from the nearby milkbar and dialed the number for the Greek consulate in Melbourne. I was going to get myself a Greek passport and go and live in Greece. I didn't care if I had to farm olives and tend bars in the off season to support myself; I wanted peace. Or at least space to breathe.

Well, it didn't happen that very day but that was the first step. Many problems, negotiations, hassles and chaotic days later, I am now days away from boarding that long-awaited plane. Yet to all outward appearances, I am only taking a holiday. That's what I've told everyone around me, anyway. It really all depends on what I find at the other end of my journey across the oceans. If you've ever travelled with the 50/50 uncertainty of whether you intend to return or not, you'll know that packing for such a trip is one big bee-ai-tee-see-aich. What do I take? What do I leave? Is it easier to bring stuff I don't need back, should I intend to return, or to have stuff I need sent over, should I intend to stay on? And what about extending the actual return date? Health and travel insurance? Bank accounts? Telephone connections? Friends? My whole world??

I've often noticed that the best changes take place one small step at a time and are so exciting that everything falls into place relatively painlessly for people. Things that are missing are patiently waited for because so much else is going fantastically well (maybe for the first time ever). How else could we adapt to new life situations? If we don't believe in what we're doing, everything's a hassle. How else can we put up with the daily obstacles? We need that excitement for life to make everything else less annoying, to put life into perspective. Living in the Western world, especially a country like Australia, where the government makes so many things easy for us, makes us develop a warped sense of perspective. Our parents can huff and puff in vain; we won't make changes according to their advice unless we live the reality they came from. We can't understand them from our little box of comfort with its messages that the world is our oyster and we should just get out there and live our dreams. We just won't get the importance of what they're telling us every day: don't trust everybody, study hard, find someone to marry and save, save, SAVE.

Surely that's not a bad way to go. But what gave them this perspective was the world they came from. And that means their world was healthy. Simple and uncomplicated. They had exactly what they needed and no more. They survived. They brought their dreams with them wherever they went and many of them made them a reality. But dreams have many forms. We, the city generation, have been raised in the noise and hubbub of places our parents used to have romantic fantasies about. But many of us dream of places our parents left and often fondly reminisce about. Are our dreams any less valid or responsible? Is wanting to live a healthier, quieter life in a small village or town any worse a goal than wanting to move to a big, busy city with all of life's modern conveniences?

I sign off this entry with this hope: I hope everyone who has a dream, whatever it may be, finds the courage and hope inside them to make their dream a reality. Where there is a will, there IS a way. We are ships of hope that are equipped with everything we need to reach our destinations. Only those who have found a way to penetrate into our inward parts through our ears - penetrate with doubtful, fearful and critical thoughts - have the power to sink us. So don't let anyone get to you. Nothing can be more right, more correct, than the energy and passion that keeps you getting out of bed in the morning. Everything in your life should revolve around this force of will.