Tag Archives: journey

For Now

I have no plans, no bucket list and no aspirations. For now, I am living in Cambodia and teaching grade 1 English. That might change tomorrow or next week but I have a roof over my head and there is food on the table. Often that table is shared with friends so life is pretty sweet. 

I have no partner to consider so, for now, I walk the Asperger Path alone. That could change but I feel there is potential for hurt and loneliness in loving someone like me. As I travel through life I try to change myself for the better. Small changes mostly because they can be easily implemented and maintained. However, I find that my love affairs, and some of my friendships, seem to boil dry so I still have work to do to minimise my negative inpact on others. Expectation is a hard task master and failure has been a constant companion in days past.  

Although I travel a path both physically and spiritually, I am not getting there because I am living here. I won’t be here forever. So I am just going to live for now, for now.  

A Bumpy Bohemian Road

We are all travellers. We are born but by the time we die we are in different times and different places. I was born into much unhappiness. My mother thought she had arrived as she had a home and a husband. She ended up barefoot and pregnant, deserted by my Catholic father for a woman who dripped a hard headed, icy sophistication. My mother, leaking milk, eventually admitted defeat and returned home to the helpful but rigidly, judgmental parents she had left on her ill advised wedding day. Her ensuing battles with her mental health and self esteem didn’t leave much stability or love to spare for two boys who had already lost a father. She left us out in the cold for a while but she had to put her own oxygen mask on before she could worry about our care supply. The return to a semblance of normality was a bumpy bohemian road along which I grew to love my shy mother. She was clever and funny and quietly loved her children though organisation and routine were scarce commodities. As an adult I can see my mother has bestowed both gifts and burdens on me. Having no children, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to parent a child while your own life veers off course.  

My mother’s life was short but in her last few years I saw a woman of fifty something years coming into her own with a joy and a confidence I had only ever glimpsed as a child. I am fifty now and sense I am, like my mother, in a very good place. Looking forward, I don’t know where I am going but I am fairly confident it will be great when I get there. I can see where I have been and the path has been a tough one and I have no doubt the future will hold a few surprises yet. My mother taught me that demons can be battled and was an example of how we can change. I have travelled through time and space but it is the internal journey that has been my greatest adventure. It has taken me to places far from my childhood and will continue to do so as long I ask questions of myself and the world I see before me. The inquisitive mind travels far for what is a quest without question. The answers aren’t often found but if you stop asking your journey is over. This restless traveller hopes to live on the bumpy bohemian road and die having never quite arrived.