Lately, my head has been boiling. I have had endless questions and wishes coming to my mind every day for years. But for the past few months, I have the impression of overdosing. It is too much. Too many ideas, too many expectations, too many worries, too many changes that I want to accomplish. I am at the end of my rope. It is strange. Looking back, I have a hard time finding a time when I was truly happy while traveling. Yes, I had extraordinary experiences, I discovered truths inside me, I saw magnificent landscapes. But I have never (or very rarely) felt at peace, my mind in perfect synchronization with the present moment, a feeling of calm traversing my body. Before leaving France, two years ago, I naively thought that going on a trip would change me in a few months, make me a talented, extraordinary and perfectly happy person. Well, in the end, thirty months later, the problems are still there (anxiety, doubts, slight depression, etc.). There is nothing to do, no matter if you are on the other side of the world, (unless you have a life experience so strong that it can change you in a few months, which is not my case for the moment), you drag our problems wherever you go.

I have a little trouble accepting this. I can make lists and lists on how to reach my goals and change my habits (being creative, happy, social, in good shape, etc.), I still take three steps forward, ten steps backward. And then my head is lost in the future. On the post-Australia era. I decided to spend two years in Australia to save as much as possible in order to spend a year cicycle through Asia. So I work a lot. My working holiday it is 80% working and 20% holiday. It does not bother me more than that, I am okay with that. But I have a little trouble by my standards to save money as I would like. And that worries me a little. You will tell me, like most people I have spoken to, that I worry too much, that I should enjoy the present moment and that compared to the vast majority of other backpackers I am doing well… Perhaps.

I am not sure why I am the way I am. A little unsocial on the edges, quick to worry, perfectionist sometimes to the point of exhaustion, constantly chasing after time, dragging a slight depression, at times lost in procrastination and with a feeling of not being in phase. A psychologist would tell me about my adolescence, my relationship with my parents, my relationship with my body and my image, my expectations … But I do not have a psychologist and I am not sure I want one (I have already experienced this and it did not really worked) so I write on my blog.

For the past few months, I have also had a little bit of hard time deciding what to publish on my blog. Since I spend most of the time working (right now picking carrots), there is no real point in making a travel diary…. The story is interesting when there is something to tell but at the moment apart from my existential questions there is nothing to tell. I would like a more ecological, anthropological content, on the planet, about traditions. National Geographic style articles. Well. Maybe I am setting goals that may be too difficult to achieve. Especially right now while my mind is wavering.

The positive point in all this is that by exhausting myself and being fed up I will have to take a decisive turn in my life at one time or another. Decide to think differently and focus on my goals. Throw everything that holds me back to the bottom of the abyss and finally move forward freely. Accept my doubts and misunderstandings and live with them rather than trying to get rid of them. I have six weeks left in Tasmania. Six weeks harvesting vegetables in the fields during the week and visiting the island during the weekends. And trying to calm my mind.

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