Seven days in a suitcase

IMG_5785.JPGI’ve procrastinated long enough to write this one. Timing. It’s everything. I wanted the euphoria and the state of hallucination to die down so I can take a step back and take it in and evaluate what just happened. Quite honestly, I really took my time on this one. It was that surreal that I needed the entire year to take off first before I was able to let it go. I am schmaltzy like that. I keep personal things for a really long time before I share it. Unlike some whose lives are all over the place, I prefer things to be low key and more intimate.

 I have people, family and friends ask me what was going through my head while it was all happening. I was in a bubble. I do not exactly know what to say about all of it. The only way you’d get to understand it is if you get your own similar experience. I cannot put it to words, to be honest. That’s the beauty of experiencing things – you have to be in that exact moment so you know what it feels like.

Like any of us, it was all a dream. And then I realized, it’s all a matter of choice. We decide if we’d let our dreams be just dreams, or start working on it to make it real. You have to want it that bad. It won’t help you if you allow your insecurities take out the best in you. The key is to work on it – to fail a million times and over, yet never losing the spirit. Sometimes, it’s that one more try, one more push that makes us. When you’re about to fall apart and then you still picked yourself up and tried again.

I can’t tell you how it felt. But I can tell you what it’s like after. I sincerely thought it will never happen for me. If you get to see my bucket list, you’d understand me more. You have not known insane until you get your hands on it (insert game face on here). When I came back from that whirlwind seven days, I was on heroin high for I don’t know how long – I guess for the remaining of the year since I wasn’t able to let it go until 2015 ended. I felt like nothing could ruin anything for me, and that I can take on everything – work, life, etc. That was my happy place. In fact, it still is. I still stare at all of my photos with mixed emotions – sometimes I’d down a bag of chips and a can of ginger ale while I go back to how it felt like.

It was seven days in a suitcase in three cities and two countries. One day I was catching a shuteye flight and when I woke up I was in some postcard perfect picturesque architecture jungle and could not decide which view to take a shot of. Next thing I know, I was hopping trains from one city to the next, eating like a local and barely sleeping. I was doing the touristy list yet stayed true to my traveler self. I wasn’t relaxing or holidaying – I was on an adventure. I was discovering things and getting to know myself at the same time. It was all a blur at that time – I could not feel anything, except get carried away on a daily basis. Everything took my breath away. I could not see anything that’s not beautiful. There was nothing to waste so I took it all in. It was by far, the best seven days of my life. There might be nothing that can top it off for me – there will never be like it again.

And then the bubble popped and I was back to my old life, but something changed. I noticed I was happier, and in a state of bliss. I’ve never had that before. Sure, I had happy moments too. But this was different – a good different, I should say. And I’d take anything from then on – nonsense, BS, compliments, sarcasm, everything. And I’m still okay, planning my next happy place.

I hope you get to bring yourself to your happy place too – whatever that is, I want that for you.




P. S.

If you’re looking for the logistics and the technicalities of that experience, it’s in another blog post called 7 days, 3 cities, 2 countries.






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s