I Should Be In India, But I’m Not

rock-pile-3

I should be in India, but I’m not.

I’m sitting in a beach house in the middle of nowhere instead.

…..

 

August 1998

First year out of university and my father took me on my first overseas trip. New York. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps. Just the two of us.

It was the stuff of dreams – dinner at Balthazar, baseball at Yankee Stadium, walking in the summer sun the length of Fifth Avenue from Soho to Central Park. At the end of our holiday, he gave me a beautiful little statue of a maiden’s head that he had bought from the Museum of Modern Art. When I returned home, I put it on my bedside table. In every house since, it has always stayed next to my bed, a reminder of that golden week with Dad.

…..

 

May 2017

Walking beside the canal after Mother’s Day lunch, Dad asked me if I wanted to travel to India with him and attend an entrepreneur’s conference. How could I not? The chance to hear big, blue sky ideas and have a week with my very own blue, sky, dreaming father. After all, it was almost 20 years since our last adventure as a duo.

…..

October 2017

Twelve hours before I was supposed to be heading to the airport I had unsuccessful emergency root canal surgery and was told by my Dentist I couldn’t travel.

And so Dad boarded that big birdie in the sky without me and I stayed at home, gutted our adventure had so abruptly ended before it had even started.

…..

 

Today

I should be in India, but I’m not.

I’m sitting in a beach house in the middle of nowhere instead.

I haven’t seen anyone. I’m alone but not lonely. I’ve been sleeping and writing. In the soft glow of the early evening, I walked to a deserted beach where someone had made pile upon pile of stacked stones. As I headed back to the beach house, I took my shoes off and walked through the bush barefoot. All I could hear was the roar of the ocean through the tea trees.

As I walked, I started thinking about the last few years. The growing, the uncurling of something fresh within. The breaking free of the brokeness that saw me completely burnt out two Christmases ago. The learning to live deeply and fully.

And slowly, the pieces started connecting – what I want to create next, where I’d like to take my career.  The answers I had been so desperately hoping to find during my time in India were suddenly electrically clear.

…..

 

I should be in India, but I’m not.

Maybe I didn’t have to stray so far from home to find what I’ve been looking for.

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