IWOM – We Know No Limits.com

Perhaps it’s not the worst of all the “ism’s” – race-ism, sex-ism; but my latest pet hate is age-ism.

When I say latest that’s not strictly true. It’s been a pet hate for a while now as I’ve found myself in the position of having to justify my age to someone who most often is younger than me. I get that anyone under 25 thinks 25 and over is OLD but hey, isn’t 40 the new 30?

What a bizarre twist this is when you consider how many times we all tried to pretend we were older to gain entrance to a venue or join a group.

My days of pretending to be older are long gone and these days I’m  happy with where I’m at however, I’m constantly frustrated by other people who seem unable to accept me for who I am and try to categorise me because of their age perceptions.

When I decided to travel and wanted to work at Summer Camp USA I was initially told I was too old but when I persisted and gained an interview I was suddenly found to be a perfect candidate and received a placement. What a surprise it must have been to the 20something interviewer as he told me, “he couldn’t believe how well he was getting on with me and how lively and energetic I seemed!”

For heavens sake – is 40 the new 95 in his eyes?

I’ve noticed most over 40′s have more energy and enthusiasm for living life and experiencing new things than the under 30′s who live for the latest X-box game or I-phone update so there!

What’s brought this outburst on you may ask? TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY and whilst I’ve had a lovely champagne brekky and am enjoying my day, I received a phone call from someone checking a form I’d filled out in relation to my future accommodation in the UK because she thought my birth date must be incorrect.

In fairness, I understand it’s not everyone over 40 who wishes to live in shared accommodation, particularly when the other occupants may be a lot younger however, I thought it was overkill when after I confirmed my birthdate she still had to ask in a shocked tone, “so how old are you?”

It seems I have come a full circle from trying to prove I was old enough to participate to nowadays, trying to prove I’m young enough to participate. Luckily, I like me just the way I am.

Happy Birthday to me.

Happy Birthday to me

There was a time when the year 2000 seemed unreal and far in the future. A new century and I wondered what it would be like. I’d heard my grandparents talking about horse and carts and crystal radios and I knew they were from the olden days. Who’d have thought I’d have olden days of my own?

Shock, horror – not only did I get to live in two centuries but now they’re showing flashbacks on TV and in magazines to remind us of the highlights, low-points and milestones of the first decade of this 21st century. The year 2000 now seems so far behind.

What can I tell you of my olden days?

My first record album (round, black, vinyl) was of course; Elvis Presley. I was allowed to ride my bike everywhere and with my friends roamed largely unsupervised a lot of the time. If I lost a race or wasn’t invited to someone’s birthday party my parents didn’t try to compensate me but helped me deal with the disappointment.

I watched the change-over to colour TV on our black and white set with my family and was thrilled when my cousins handed down their fashionable clothes. Maybe I should post a quiz at this point and ask if you can guess how old I am? I should say, how young I am?

So! It’s 2010 and what have you done? What will you do?

I no longer have vinyl records; well, yes I do, they’re in storage and I can’t bear to part with them BUT; my IPod goes everywhere with me and has enough music to play for 17 days if  the battery could last that long. I also have a laptop that has a 17 hour battery so if I’m bored, lost or lonely I can still keep writing, looking at my photos or watching a favourite movie!

My life has changed in other ways. My grandparents travelled across the world to start a new life and so it seems, shall I. Starting a new life is not all that new to me, I’ve done it before but this new start is different. It’s about freedom and choices rather than necessity. I’m choosing a lifestyle not a place.

My Aussie homeland is tempting me to stay as the summer settles in and I can go swimming at night – I was born a summer baby and I’m enjoying it while I can as I finalise my plans to head into a cold, Northern hemisphere winter.

It’s 2010 and what have I done?

• Well, I just spent New Year with my parents and their friends and can confirm that even people from the olden days know how to have fun!
  

  Old People's fancy dress 2009

It’s 2010 and what will I do?

• Live for a while in a place where I can travel to another country in a day, try a new lifestyle, learn a new language, dance until dawn, talk to strangers, treasure my old friends while making some new ones…all the usual things – what about you?

Like everyone, I’ve eaten too much, drunk too much and had a lovely time. I was having way too much fun and am now running late but as they say, better late than never…I hope  you all had a WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS and will have a safe, happy and prosperous NEW YEAR in which all your dreams come true.

I’m heading to Perth tomorrow to catch up with the rest of my family and friends before the big move to UK so it’ll be more food, more drinks and probably more nightmares regarding packing. I’ll keep you posted.

Hohoho……

Have you ever wondered “what if my head really did fall off from laughing?”

Probably not, but where did the saying come from? I laughed my head off!

Did someone’s head really fall off from laughing a long time ago? So long ago that the origin of the saying is now forgotten.

I guess it’s not worth worrying about – save the worry for splitting your sides laughing or worse still, killing yourself laughing.

Funny, they say laughter is the best medicine.

I can hardly believe I’ve been back in Australia six months. When did that happen? I still remember how I felt during my last week in Bangkok – the last stop of my 12month IWOM adventure.

It was horrible. I knew everyone expected me to feel excited to be returning “home” and about to see all my family and friends again but I didn’t want to go. Why? Because it felt like life as I’d come to know and love it, was ending.

Dinner in Bangkok

I know they say that with endings come new beginnings but that wasn’t how I felt at the time. The other day I read something I’d written the night before my flight to Australia that sums things up quite well;

At the thought of heading back to Australia my mind goes blank. I was feeling, I guess, a kind of denial two weeks ago, denial that all this time has passed and now I’m expected to go back and act like nothing’s happened.

Now I feel nothing and think nothing – seems I’ve finally found a way to clear my mind. Perhaps I’ll even be able to meditate now, if I think of going back – wards.

Kind of depressing I know but hey, I’d just spent almost 18 months in total, going wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted and living exactly as I like to – on my own time. I always say I have no rules and that was a time when it was absolutely true.

Heading back to Australia felt like going backwards. I knew that no matter what I’d seen and done, everyone there would be the same, doing the same things and expecting me to fit back into those lives. I also knew I planned to work for a while. Well, I had to so I made it my plan; and I knew that would place me back into the day-to-day I so wanted to avoid, faster than anything else could.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Australia and the outdoor lifestyle, I love my family and my friends, I just didn’t ever love the day-to-day grind we fall into or the fact that people worry about the little things and forget to make time to have a bit of fun, to live in the moment – dare I say, noone knows when it may be the last. 

By the way, I felt guilty too. Guilty toward all the people I knew were in Australia looking forward to my return. I did want to spend time with them, I just wanted them to come to me in a different location so I could share some of my excitement and experiences with them. Selfish? Maybe, but it was with good intent.

Sad face-leaving Bangkok

Well, as I said about endings…new beginnings. I put myself on the plane and arrived in Australia with my mind set on what I was doing next. I don’t tend to think in terms of “I might do…,” I tend to think and say out loud, “I’m doing …” That often prompts people to suggest I may be disappointed if things don’t turn out but I laugh at the thought because the way I see it, if I’ve said it, I’ll do it.

I guess my thoughts on being positive are another story for me to tell but let’s just say I think Pollyanna had the right idea in finding a positive side to everything.

So, my new beginning? It’s underway and almost on schedule – my schedule so actually yes, it’s on schedule. I stepped off the plane and said I was staying to work a few months, catch up with everyone then return to the UK by Christmas.

Enjoying the Aussie lifestyle

It took a few weeks longer to find temp work and the rates aren’t as good as they once were (apparently due to the global financial crisis) so I won’t be in the UK for Christmas. The Pollyanna side to that is, I’ll now spend Christmas and New Year with family and friends plus maybe miss the worst of the UK winter by returning in February. You see, it is easy to find a bright side.

 FYI: definition of Pollyanna

(source: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/Pollyanna )

 Noun – an excessively or blindly optimistic person.

Adjective – Also, Pollyannaish, unreasonably or illogically optimistic: some Pollyanna notions about world peace.

 Origin: from the name of the child heroine created by Eleanor Porter (1868-1920), American writer

Growing up in suburban Perth (Western Australia) was great but I always knew I was a gypsy at heart. In my teens I was thrilled when one of my Aunts, probably inspired by my long dark hair and hoop earrings; decided I looked like a gypsy and that there must be some in our family tree.

Needless to say, that’s never been proved and my idea of gypsies was a romanticised movie version – gorgeous dark haired people who danced & sang their way across the world. The idea of such freedom, going wherever you want, whenever you want, without a care, seemed an ideal existence.

Ideal however, is not often aligned with reality so it was probably no surprise to anyone that I didn’t grow up, leave home and roam the world without a care. My reality became an almost predictable cycle of getting a job, getting married, having a child, getting divorced, starting over and trying to work out what I’d like to do “when I grow up.”

I knew I wanted to roam the world and dreamed of seeing all the places I’d ever heard of, seen in a movie or read about. That’s a lot of places – I read a lot and love the movies.

Although it was hard to imagine how I’d able to live that life, I kept telling myself someday I would. In the meantime, I needed to make a living, raise my son and create the lifestyle I wanted for us.

Making faces

My career choices reflected the battle between my creative and practical self with roles as different as being a makeup artist to co-ordinating business improvement projects whereas my personal life always included dancing, singing and performing in amateur theatre. No, my son does none of those – he’s into basketball and skateboarding.

For many years our lives consisted of mad dashes between work, school, rehearsals, sporting matches and anything else we decided to fit in until suddenly, my son was grown up, working and about to leave home. When I said I needed time to get used to the idea of not seeing him every day, he laughed and said I should be thinking of doing the things I said I’d do when he grew up.

Did I mention that my son is not just good at sport but also smart?

Packing my life into boxes

Once again I found myself starting over. This time, knowing my child was independent, I could choose to live my dream. It’s true the hardest part of any decision is the making of it. Once I’d decided, everything fell into place as if it was always meant to be.

That’s how I became an International Woman of Mystery and set off to see the world.

Over 18 months I saw as much as I could of each place I visited including New Zealand, North America, Mexico, Sweden, India, UK and Europe. My ideal gypsy life was now my reality and I could choose every day, to do whatever I felt like.

Such freedomis amazing and makes it almost impossible to fit back into what everyone at home sees as a normal life. Before I left, most people I know talked about my trip or holiday as if it had a finite time but I knew in my heart it was just the beginning and it would be a long time before I’d want to settle anywhere.

My life in boxes

From my perspective, it wasn’t a holiday, it was a lifestyle change. I no longer feel I need to fit anyone’s ideal except my own and that’s freedom in itself. I do believe the only limitations I have are the ones I set myself as I’m the one who makes the choice to do the things I want to do or just think about them.

My choice for now? I’m going to base myself in the UK so I can travel more frequently before deciding where I might like to settle……for a while.