Categories
Life outside of travel

Fear of Job Commitment

Previously, I wrote a bit about my history of work. Jobs I had, but never truly felt happy with. I finished the post with noting I found another place where I’d work until meeting my dearest in wonderful Malaysia where before departure I had found an apartment for a month long. Now, to get there, I had eight weeks worth of work in a town two stations away. Five days a week, I biked to the train, rode it for the quarter of an hour before casually walking the last thirty or so minutes. I blissfully did so and viewed the walk as me-time. Something needed, as I worked over fifty hours a week and the moment home my screen spoke draining words as I followed online courses and while jotting down important notes my mind whispered words of guilt exclaiming I should have pushed harder during my workout. So, that morning and early-evening walk was welcomed and kept me cool.

Work itself was at a warehouse manned by five when at full crew and I was to replace the ones rotatingly off on holiday. Why I always return to a warehouse? It feels comfortable. Perhaps peculiar coming from a guy used to leaving the bubble of comfort, but yes, it is sincere. The thought of retailing or facing customers on the daily or sitting at a desk seems unappealing and in ways daunting with all the social interactions. Being physically active is a pro for me and since mucking up stables pays inadequate and the work comes scarce, I once again returned to handling and picking orders. And I seemed to enjoy these weeks and even the long Saturday of hauling furniture on my tugger was made doable due to it only being a single day in the week. But, if I may speak complete honesty, with the excitement and passion I had said farewell to both, I believe my love was faked. Faked by an incentive of Malaysia and a beautiful Filipina calling for me. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow made the dreading climb an illusive walk in the park. Call it a mirage. Oft, I was irritated. When work was slow it took me seconds to glance at my phone for the time and pray for it to speed up and at the ending of it, I began to feel the same I feel all elsewhere. That I am finished.

I realise writing this will be the worst possible stamp on my resume, but after weeks, months, depending on the particular job and people, I simply can’t anymore. I can’t stand getting up at six to force an early meal, bike the exact same path I have for god knows how many times only to then start a day doing the exact same tasks I always do. I realised that feeling loomed above me and if I hadn’t left there it would have taken over again. The second I set the alarm, even when I accept the job or go to the interview, the clock starts. A countdown as to when I am done. Normal people work year in and year out, get promoted and build up a pension and are happy. In many ways, I am sad to admit that I am not normal. I have never seen myself in any position working under someone for more than a year and the thought alone frightens me and makes me unhappy.

But, normal is also boring. And boring, I do not do. Therefore, I pushed myself to work 50+ hours as I workout, follow online studies and fight myself a way through life’s dull moments in before I find myself abroad again. And one day, I promise myself, I will take grip of life’s ropes and take control in anything and then, just maybe, I can be truly happy without the fear of being stuck doing a 9-6 or 8-5 or anything that is not on my terms.

Don’t be scared to take the leap. Work for it, fight for it and make it happen. You deserve to be happy and if it is impossible to do so with your current way of living, change something. Don’t live a life that is a lie!

Categories
Personal Favourites South-East Asia (2017-2018)

A brick of the wall of fear

Back in my lover’s arms, it was not long before I dragged her with me from island to island in the beautiful archipelago. A short flight had taken us to the well-known Cebu where both of us would, without truly realising it yet, face our fears. Though it would be under mild conditions, nonetheless it required a big swallow and hopefully it is a brick in the build-up of the real deal. For my lovely Filipina, it is the water she fears. No, she is not scared of the kiddie-pool or anything to that liking. It is the depth of the endless oceans and seas as well as the big creatures within that intimidate her. Nonetheless, time after time she had proven herself to be bigger and stronger through the swimming and snorkelling we had done up to that point. But, today would be different, today would be a terrifying day for her.

Categories
Cycling and Hitchhiking (2016) EU

A New Upcoming Travel & Old Pictures

Once I returned home, surprising my family with a sudden knock on the door – followed by an hour waiting as no one was home – things quickly got back to the routineus life that had pushed me to travel in the first place. A few breaths and my feet were scurrying from pole to pole, resumes in my hand. I switched jobs faster than tides until my employment agency placed me into the transporting business. Seven months working in a warehouse amidst all kinds of coworkers.

During these months, I had the opportunity to ponder over what the story of the following chapter of my life would be. Many suggested study. Some seemed to know what was best for me, cocksure what I should do. Too many foolishly thought I would actually cage myself within the walls of a study. A moment’s thought, so did I. However, for me, depressions seeps from these walls. As long as I have no motivation to enter such building, bearing the answers to my life passions, it will be a place to drain my happiness. The friends that knew me best, pushed me to follow my heart. Soon after, I was convinced.


Thus, the making of a new travel plan arrived. With heavy heart, my family smiled upon me, as their dreams of me in college shattered to the ground. As expected, they had my back and with every step I took, they were there offering a hand. Their support allowed me to work hard and save my money tight as if a new economy crash was upcoming. To keep my mind out of the gutter that is the boring life in the Netherlands, I spend my time focusing on the upcoming trip and writing about the past one. Even during work, my mind was on the beaches, in the jungles and so on. This worked for some time…

Until the well of motivation had gone dry and my taste for the water faded. Feeling caged in my world of writing, I had to bring a pause to my stories. Unhappy with the words on my screen, feeling forced with every post, I no longer wallowed in the bath of words I used to love. Days were slow and boring, yet my mind was at all times a roaring lion, a machine gone to overdrive, a tornado and volcano burst at the same time. Thoughts, worries, and fears flew in thousands. They hung heavy in my head, bringing exhaustion. Workdays got longer and slower. The same faces, the same boring conversations, the same dumb questions over and over. Days off, I often felt bored. I wanted to go out and live.

But for once, I felt afraid of travelling. I had announced to make the longest trip I ever would. That wasn’t what brought shrivels down my spine however. What shakes my mind, is the fear of being unable to find a path for my life. A direction. Of failing myself. Despite that constant dread chaining me down, I prepared my wings for the next flight. Taking a leap from the nest and hoping my wings would carry me. To find my purpose. Quitting my job to be with my family was a begin. Buying my ticket a second. It took a while before that happened, as I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to fly, afraid of falling. Nonetheless, I did. Giving up on studying, I hope I find what I desire out there.


Now, about my posts. Fresh, I shall begin, hopefully finding my spot in the world of writing. But not before I give you a nip of the last months in Europe (+ a short family trip in Sweden).

 

Some poorly shot pictures of the beautiful town that is Odessa, Ukraine. 

Then, sweltering in a train, I made my way to Chisinau, the capital of beautiful Moldova. Here a wonderful family took me in and showed me around for a few days. Two young, but incredible smart and talented children. 

 

After giving me more than I could take, I was shown the ancient Orheiul Vechi, a lovely village on the side of a hill. Thereafter, I moved on to Romania. 

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My travel through Romania was rapid, however grand. Turning into a smelly swamp at 40 degrees, I received long rides in a beetle, a bus and a worker on duty, offered food with some gin by dry-humoured workers in a warehouse, slept in a warm guesthouse bed in Bran for free, braved the vampires and hitchhiked together with a first-timer. In this week of Romania exploration, I have not a single bad word to say.

I soon arrived in Austria, heading to my work-away location. A small village, filled with drama. Taking care of camels and horses was my job. In exchange, accommodation, meals and riding lessons were provided. A village of all kinds. Four weeks of getting to know them all through long conversations. Besides the village, I visited the town Melk nearby, beautiful Vienna, and some farms.

Then time had come to head home. Without letting my family know, I hitchhiked in three days across Austria and Germany. Astonishingly fast I received rides of many nice people all the way up to final city.

Up next follow a few pictures I took when in Sweden for a family trip (Stepmother’s side). 

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For now, I am doing well. I have all under control and I feel ready to embark on my new adventure. The 11th of August, my trip will begin. I feel ready. I will live, smile, write and be happy. Pictures will come. If you want to stay posted, you may follow me on Instagram and/or Facebook.