Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Travelling through fear

A woman came up to me after my gig on the weekend and said that she wished she could be fearless like me. She said she was too afraid to travel. That she was scared about too many things. I think it's interesting that people assume that because I've lived a colourful life and had my fair share of adventure - that I've done it all without fear. I explained to her that I am scared all the time. Scared of big things - like the unknown, like loneliness on the road, like shit going wrong when I'm far from home. And scared of the little things - like not getting enough sleep when I'm staying in noisy places, like missing my daily intake of broccoli, like hurting my back when I'm lugging all my crap from train to plane to bus. But for some reason I do it anyway. The fear never leaves. It's a daily thing. But the brightness of the 'new' - new landscapes, new human connections, new scents and tastes - has a way of outweighing the scary stuff and leaving me feeling grateful to be alive and grateful to be travelling the road I am travelling. With love from Esslingen.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Laughing in Luang Prabang

My friend Heather made me laugh so hard the other night that I thought I might crack a rib. You know that kind of laughter when you're both gasping for air with tears streaming down your cheeks and after ten minutes you're still in hysterics even though you're not sure why. There are only a couple of people in this world who can make me laugh like that and I can now add Heather's name to that short list.

Today I say goodbye to Luang Prabang - to the golden sunsets, the quaint-coloured doorways, the temples and orange-robbed monks - and to a small group of people who have become my family here in this sleepy town.

When you move to a foreign land on your own - where nobody knows you, nobody owes you, nobody needs to have anything to do with you - and you somehow manage to find a tribe. When you are able to gain the acceptance of complete strangers - who invite you into their homes to share meals and ideas and life. When they love you and your often-neurotic ways not because they're blood-related and feel obliged to do so, but because they choose to. When you find yourself falling off a couch from laughing so hard with a girl who you didn't know at all six months ago, but who has become a friend you'll now treasure for years to come. Well, it makes you feel like you're an okay human being, you know? That you're doing something right with your life. That the world, no matter which corner you land in, is a wonderous place.