Today has been the type of day that makes you doubt there’s any other REAL alternative to van living. The kind so full of sunshine, smiles, and small adventures that makes you beam, end to end. This is what I hoped this trip would be like. Of course, with the exception of my 6AM sobs this morning, in realizing that we never set an extra alarm and that the sun was rising without my permission nor my participation. Damn.
We were camped overnight at Cathedral Cove with the intention to take advantage of a good weather forecast and take some long exposures before the masses awoke and arrived. Four AM came and went and we were soon back asleep following the lone alarm. Two hours later I was the one sounding the distress call that Eric still doesn’t quite know what to do with: tears.
After hauling ass down to the Cove, still whimpering that we were missing out on the entire show, we made it 10 minutes before the sun was to crest the horizon. We promptly scouted a flat rock and sat down to wait. I put my camera aside, I rested my head on Eric’s shoulder, and I focused my gaze seaward. Exhaaaaale. And the reset button was engaged swiftly, yet gently.
Why do I get so fixated on having specific experiences? Why do I allow myself to set such high, inflexible expectations that don’t adapt to reality? Why do I even need photographs? Why is it so hard to accept and enjoy what’s before me, with the understanding that this beautiful moment, whatever it is, is the one I’ve been given, still deserving of my appreciation despite my expectations?
The day that followed (is following!) was superb after all the selfish sobbing was mopped up/stopped up. We parked the van at Hahei Beach and wallowed in it’s sunny windows like lazy cats all morning. With the sound of the waves in our ears, cups of hot coffee in hand, we allowed ourselves the rest of the day to do nothing.
Being allowed to “do nothing” does sound admittedly silly, given that we are the navigators of this adventure, but it’s not always an easy concept. I can’t speak for Eric, but I oftentimes feel like I’m expected to be collecting a certain amount of stories and photographs, living up to the “I’m so jealous!” comments that have been populating our social media streams since this trip began. I don’t want anyone to live vicariously through me! I don’t want the pressure to produce, however self imposed it may actually be, to prove that my wandering is relevant! I want to live in my van, read books, drink wine, and make out with my boyfriend. Why do I think I’m expected to do otherwise?
And it’s funny to me, that in letting ourselves off the hook for the day, that we ended up stumbling sweetly upon our small adventures, born out of genuine desire and joy.
I went for a solo walk down the beach, closing my eyes at intervals to better experience the onset of every wave. It was a true fucking delight. It was mindfulness.
I found a rope swing. I was able to coerce Eric into the position of pusher, being too chickenshit to jump from the tree to which it was attached. Dangling from that rope, watching my personal tide go out and come in, was the most concentrated form of basic pleasure.
Later, we each indulged in a scoop of mochaccino ice cream from the Tip Top case, a short walk away at the general store. We licked our cones, lapping up the cream, while reading the community notice board and appraising the for sale properties posted up outside the shop.
Throw in salami sandwiches, a swim, and some intermittent dozing, and I’m ready to award this day as one of the very best in the last 5 months. Today we let things happen. And they happened to be utterly delightful.
-K
^Our Pinnacles hike in the Coromandel Peninsula. A composite on the left (Eric didn’t reckon endangering our lives for a photo was a good idea) and the fern filled trail to get there.
^Scared AF. The rest of the photos at this location are of my clinging to the rocks for dear life.
^It’s fall in the Southern Hemisphere. Heh.
^Cathedral Cove + one of New Zealand’s most famous hunks of rock.
^”Now go stand alone on that rock and look off.” Secret to Instagram success right there, I tell ya.
^My happy place.
^Eric’s anatomy wasn’t quite suited for the rope swing. I did manage a few snaps before he dismounted, grabbing his crotch. More swing time for meeee! 🙂