Years passed by and I eventually graduated from school. I was really glad about it. I just hated being at school. I felt rarely so wrong and unhappy sitting in a small class room with teachers that didn’t understand that I was not bored – I just needed a personal communication – and randomly mixed up people that had nothing in common. So, you can imagine that, even a long time before I graduated, I was looking forward to start working and building up my self-confidence that I missed during school time.
So, directly after my exam I started working. It was the most important thing for me to work hard, trying to get better than others and work overtime. My job was my life. I was even a little bit sad on Fridays because I wasn’t able to work for two days then.
Meanwhile I did a lot of internships and an apprenticeship in marketing. Then I studied and I am really happy that I found the perfect job for me afterwards. I know that this is not taken for granted. Especially here in Australia I get to know a lot of people who quit their jobs because they didn’t want to do it anymore.
Anyway, I was really ambitious and wanted others to like my work, like me and totally forgot about my personal needs. Although I was thinking I would do everything just for me and would never ever admit that I actually didn’t, I did not realize that I lost some things on my way. One thing was my laughter. I mean, not just a smile to satisfy random people. A real laughter coming directly out of my soul about stupid and unimportant things.
Now, after over one month here in Australia and meeting many different people, it was suddenly back. It was standing right in front of me and took me under its arms like a fat mommy with rosy cheeks and a warm, maternal breast that I don’t want to leave anymore because it is just feeling so good and secure.
Australia is great, it is stunning and breathtaking. And especially, it helps you find a way to yourself. You forget about all the luxury needs when you’re backpacking. And when you’re a blogger you are definitely used to some kind of luxury. Like the best food, tender filets, very good coffee and the nicest hotel rooms with golden macarons on the pillow that are slowly melting on your tongue when you're eating them. You're getting used to every kind of luxury. Because it is comfortable and we’re are all a little bit lazy when we get the chance. And we all like it when somebody cares for our needs. Because we’re feeling important then. These massages for the ego are a purring cat that never gets enough. And when you stop caring it hits you hard.
Sometimes here in OZ when I’m watching the snaps of my blogger-friends, I’m sad and I think: "I cannot be there with them." And I bartered all the designer bags and luxury against hard tent-grounds, really bad instant coffee, tab water that tastes like a pool and „dangerous“ animals and also spiders and cockroaches that are even bigger than a super tampon. You don’t even want to think about stuff like that in your pink and cozy bubble back in Germany, I know. But the more I get to know bad and unluxury things the more I can relax. It seems to be like a law of nature. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to have all the luxury back when I would get the promise that this warm and cozy feeling in my chest and the ability to laugh about things like a teen while I'm not caring about how I might look like and the fact that I didn’t comb my hair for two days, would just stay forever.
This feeling should stay. Because all the luxury is just an ego thing. It needs supplies to stay happy. It is a hungry little monster. Ungrateful and only sated for a short time before the next need wants to be satisfied. Pure happiness is not something you can buy and is available everywhere. Because small and unremarkable things can be found right around the corner. You only have to open your heart for them and ask them to come in. Thank you that I’m right in this experience right now.