If 2016 was the year of realising things, then 2017 is the year of realising things – in the marketing sense of the terminology. It’s making things happen.

In 2016 I got angry because as much as mum and I could try, we weren’t the Gilmore Girls. And believe me, we tried. One afternoon we got in the car and just left. We got coffee and drove off into the unknown. It was the worst coffee of my life and we almost got stuck on a logging access road. We’ve moved past that now.

With my first adventure of the year knocking on our earth brick door, I’m cutting my summer at home a little short. Only three trips to The Royal and even fewer dusty Sundays spent at the beach with my mother and my accidental-lover (read: accidental lover last summer, these long 2016 nights were spent alone). Less freedom camping than expected and too much coffee as could be predicted. It’s probably something to do with expectations.

And I think that’s where I want to see myself heading this year. A place of no expectations. Sure I have goals and some of them are unrealistic; a book a week is plausible right? And it’s super cool and important that we work towards these things, but this year I don’t want to trick myself into thinking I should be experiencing something that is totally unfeasible. Disappointment is a good feeling to feel, and it’s important that we do – but 2017 isn’t the year I trick myself into it.

I’m building my brand as a writer, I’m divulging deeper into my yoga practise, I’m running more. Although, I could run a block and that would be more. I’m giving less of a shit about my part time job and more of a shit about what actually matters. I’m applying myself, passionately.

I’m ready to start writing again. For the longest time I’ve had this thought that I need to be out there doing amazing things to write meaningful words. At the risk of sounding like one of those stock images with a quote on top, and somewhat like Harvey Dent, you make your own meaning.

The world can kind of be a drag at times; but I want to be able to write about that too.

But I guess that’s how I’ve found myself here; leaving my favourite place at my favourite time of year and not quite excited to go. Ready to apply myself passionately to the written word and to a wee spot of the sickest opportunity that was thrown my way.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking stoked to be going!


Catch you suckers in Canggu,


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