Following Your Dreams VS. Going With Your Gut

What are you doing. You are insane. Why couldn't you just be content and happy where you were. This is ridiculous. Never again. Why are you putting yourself through this?...

...were just a few of the thoughts going over and over in my head on the 14 hour flight from Melbourne, Australia to Hanoi, Vietnam, four weeks ago. I woke up on the morning of the flight with my heart beating so hard I could hear it thudding against the mattress and that horrible but familiar sick feeling washing over me. I dismissed it as nerves.

I chose to leave Melbourne, Nobody forced me. After an amazing and challenging 9 months living, working and travelling Australia I decided I wanted a change. I wanted to go back to SE Asia to get an English teaching job, something that I had been wanting to do since me and John first backpacked Asia over a year (!) ago. I really felt that I had done everything I wanted to do in Australia and it was time for me to go and try this, otherwise I would regret it. It was exciting, but also absolutely terrifying. I had steady work in Melbourne. I had friends and a good few work connections here. Me and John had our own private room in a house share. I had comfort and routine and all the things that I craved when we first arrived here knowing nobody, with no jobs, nowhere to stay, no suitable clothing and honestly no idea where to start. And now I was going to go and do it all over again? I knew I was taking a huge risk. But I really, really wanted to do this. I wanted the experience of teaching English, I wanted the challenge and the feeling of fulfilment I felt I was lacking in my familiar lifestyle. I honestly felt in my heart that this was the next step for me to take, the next chapter in my adventure. I spoke to everybody I knew that had done it, I watched YouTube videos, I did my research. I became more and more excited as my flight date drew closer. I was ready.

And so I went. I followed my dream. At this point, I'd like to write that the flight went smoothly, that I arrived in Hanoi with no issues, and settled into my new environment like a duck to water. I'd like to write that I'm still sitting here now, in the hot, humid chaotic heat of Hanoi, typing this blog post before heading off to teach an English class. But I'm not. I'm actually back in Melbourne, sat on the same mattress that I lay on feeling sick and terrified the morning of my flight. The reality was that I suffered a good few setbacks before I even arrived in Hanoi, one of which would complicate my stay and cause a major upheaval very early on. The sick feeling and the doubt that flooded my mind never went away, it only multiplied with every unexpected setback that I encountered along the way. And although I still desperately wanted to teach and craved that experience, once I was there it just didn't feel right.

Now, I am well aware that following your dreams isn't an easy process. It takes a lot of hard work, dedication and perseverance. To achieve something that you really want means that you can't give up at every hurdle, but must push on and face the difficulties regardless. However, I am also aware that the end product, as well as the journey toward it, doesn't always look how you imagined it to. If the journey is difficult but feels worthwhile, then I believe that you should continue despite the difficulties. However, if your feelings change, if you have every instinct screaming in opposition, or even just an underlying feeling of uncomfortable uncertainty, then it's time to reconsider. What do you want, really? What do you need right now? Consider the situation. Consider the timing. And above all, consider your gut feeling. It's instinct, and it really is the strongest navigation through life.

I don't want this post to suggest that following your dreams is a bad thing. I still believe in it, I still encourage it, and I won't give up on mine. I still want to go out and teach English somewhere. I still want that experience. I'll still seek out opportunities in the future. This isn't about giving up, it's about changing direction. I've never had such a strong pull of emotions before that has changed how I feel about a goal or experience. It was a whole flood of feeling that I just couldn't ignore or explain. Honestly, it was pretty heart-breaking. It didn't make my decision to leave Hanoi easy, despite the intensity of feeling that it was the right thing to do. I chose to listen to my instinct and I don't regret it.

In the end, my reasons for leaving Hanoi were emotional and complicated. I felt that I had to cut my losses and return to Australia, not because I missed it or was greatly attached to my experience there, but because it's the place that holds everything I need right now. I don't regret going to Hanoi, and I don't regret leaving it either. The whole experience was one invaluable and important life lesson; ultimately, yes, follow your dreams, but above all else follow your heart and your instinct. If the two work together in harmony, then persevere, but if they don't, block out all of the outside noise and listen to your deepest emotions.

Turbulence

How long do you stick something out for before you give up or decide that you need to try something new? When do you decide that enough is enough? Where do you draw the line? How much are you willing to put up with? These were all the questions that ran through my head and went unanswered for weeks and weeks when I arrived in Australia. Melbourne muddied my fresh expectations of a laid-back, sunny life down under with a cold and windy spring that locals assured me was the longest spell of cold weather they had experienced in years. Not what you want to hear when you've arrived from South East Asia with not much in your backpack but bikinis, denim shorts, crop tops and sandals. My first purchase in Australia was a coat.

It wasn't just the weather. I massively underestimated how difficult it is to land yourself in the midst of a new, foreign environment, completely unprepared, and start a brand new life from scratch. I knew nobody in Melbourne, I had no job interviews or flat viewings lined up, I came straight off a flight from Bangkok after 3 and a half months of trekking through jungles, exploring caves and balmy beaches, meditating, and eating all three meals for less than £5 a day. Financially, Australia is a shock that nobody can quite prepare you for. A $16 salad was a painful reminder that I needed to find a job as soon as possible.

We lived in a hostel for over a month. We moved 4 times in less than 2 months. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe from scratch, only to have $400 worth of clothes stolen. When I wasn't job-hunting, I was flat-hunting, and when I wasn't hunting I was getting deeper into a state of worry and anxiety that made me feel utterly lost. I never expected to feel that way when I was living my dream and pursuing what I had worked and saved for for years. I want to travel. I want to see as much of the world as I possibly can. I didn't want want to give all of that up, so I kept going, I kept trying.

When I read travel blogs and look at travel pages and instagrams, they only focus on the positive aspects, the freeing adventure. Whilst it's true that travel is amazing for the most part, I really feel that it's important for me to share the difficulties because it's such an important part of my story. I can only do it now that I am much happier and more settled so that I can write about my experience with some decent perspective, and not in one angry rant (which is pretty much all I did for a good couple of minutes every time somebody asked me how I was enjoying Australia. Sorry to those that were on the receiving end.) It also shows that dreams don't always turn out the way that you expected or like the picture that you had in your head. Once that shatters, what are you going to do? I came to Australia with all these expectations of what I thought it should be like and of what I wanted it to be like. The reality was completely different. Once I accepted that, I could mould the situation and make it work for me.

Things got better. Everything seemed to come at the same time, I got decent work, we found a nice place and moved in immediately. Summer (finally) came, bringing a 38 degree day over Christmas. I've started saving again, and the gnawing anxiety has subsided. I keep having to remind myself that I won't be here forever, that this is just a temporary situation. It took us so long to settle I'm even more determined to make the most of the remainder of my time in Melbourne, and enjoy everything that this city has to offer <3

Silent work

When I talk about completing a 10 day Vipassana meditation course the question most people ask is "Did you enjoy it?" It takes me a while to answer this question. 10 days of no phone, no talking (noble silence), no eye contact, no jewellery, no books or writing materials and no music is a huge test in itself. Then you have the meditation, which you practise for 11 hours a day. Meditation is associated with complete chill and relaxation, but this was work. Hard and - at times - frustrating work.

I completed my Vipassana course at a centre in Cambodia, Battambang province, about 2 and a half hours away from Siem Reap. On arrival I filled out a registration form and received a small paper booklet about the rules and guidelines of the course along with my room number (30) and locker key. I was then led to my assigned locker where I had to put my phone, camera, money and other valuables for the next 10 and a half days. Goodbye!

My room is very basic...honestly more like a cell containing my bed, mosquito net (VERY necessary), umbrella, eating utilities and a meditation mat and cushion if I want to meditate in my own room during the allowed hours (which I never chose to do especially after finding a huge gecko-like creature hiding behind my mat on day 6, but I'll tell that story another time). The Bell rings for the first time that evening and we all go to the hall for our first session. At 7pm on the first day noble silence beings.

Leading a simplistic lifestyle was a huge breath of fresh air at first. With no phone to distract me I drink in all of my surroundings in detail. On the first evening the sky turned pink over the fields and I surrendered to the moment competely, no instagram snap, no snapchat, just TAKE IT ALL IN. Breathe. 

I also adjusted to a new routine quite quickly. Every day I made my bed, swept out my room, arranged my clothes for the next day. These small and simple tasks become a staple in a routine with no distraction and carrying out these tasks so methodically became a welcome break from the hours of mental challenge. Noble silence was also easier than I thought it would be, especially as you become so focused on the practise. My biggest struggle lay in focusing my mind. For the first few days my thoughts crashed around inside my head, uncontrollable, vibrant and constant. No matter how many times I called it back and began to focus on my respiration I would be an unwitting passenger to my train of thought in less then a few minutes. Then I'd stop mid-thought, realisation would hit me, and I'd have to start over. Patience. In time my thoughts faded. They were still there, but I could hold them at a distance. After three days of focusing on our respiration to make our minds sharp, we moved onto practising Vipassana.

Practising the technique of Vipassana over time enables you to deal more effectivley with cravings or aversions, therefore eradicating misery over time. Vipassana is insight meditation. You focus on the sensations that you feel all over your body and work to remain "equanimous" to them, no matter whether they are enjoyable or painful. For example, I felt a lot of pain in my back during meditation, but instead of focusing on it and thinking "I am in pain", I had to work to be equanimous towards it, and accept that the feeling will arise and pass. The law of nature. Anicca, anicca, anicca. Amazingly this did work over time and the pain did subside during sessions, althouhh it never disappeared completely. It is much more difficult to remain equanimous to positive sensations. After a few days I felt this very subtle tingling sensation over most of my body, growing stronger over time. It's incredible how in tune you become to your body and how susceptible your mind is to each subtle sensation. Rather than enjoying the sensation and longing for it to happen each time I meditated, I had to again work to accept that it will arise and pass. You are not there to "chase" certain sensations or expect them, but to observe the reality as it is for you at that moment.

Additionally, there was a lot of emphasis on misery and how misery is not external, but internal. Misery is created internally due to various factors, something a person isn't happy with within themselves, or about themselves, or the way they may have handled a certain situation for example. This struck a personal chord with me as there have been a good few events in my life that have upset me and affected the way I deal with certain situations (the struggle with my skin being one of them, affecting my self-confidence and having a knock on effect later on in my life in how I think people perceive me and not speaking up when I don't like how I am being treated.) I had a very powerful profound moment during mediation that is difficult for me to explain but had a long lasting effect on me, a mindshift that I know will change how I deal with things going forward. I gained a lot from the course, but this was definitely the most defining moment for me.

A 10 day course if Vipassana is not meant to set you up for a lifetime of happiness. Meditation is a practise for a reason, you are meant to continue to meditate every day, 2 hours, once in the morning and once at night if you want to continue progress and grow. Since completing the course I have managed to practise for only 2 hours in one week (shared dorms in hostels don't create the most appropriate atmosphere for meditation.) However when I get to Australia and settle I plan to make meditation part of my new routine. I cannot express how beneficial I have found it. So did I enjoy it? Honestly, no. It was powerful, it was challenging, it was life changing, and it was intense. I am so glad I did it, as it created a shift that you only get from powerful challenges that stretch you. But wow, was I glad when it was over. 10 days is a long time for a chatty girl like me to stay silent!

I'll end this post with an excerpt from the meditation booklet that sums up the practise of Vipassana more consicley, one that I found so profound:

"The entire path (Dhamma) is a universal remedy for universal problems and has nothing to do with any organised religion or sectarianism. For this reason, it can be freely practised by everyone, at any time, in any place, without conflict due to race, community or religion, and will prove equally beneficial to one and all." - Dhamma 

Ain't that a beautiful thing?