Those who dream are resourceful and those who are resourceful make their dreams a reality

Sunday 7 December 2014

Middle Earth

New Zealand
-NORTH ISLAND-

A Kiwi Adventure

November 29th – December 8th

Luscious green hills topped with an endless bounty of rich forest and fulfilled dreams of natural conservation. A paradise, a getaway, another world. It is composed of white fluffy sheep grazing along the country side and healthy cows digesting dark green grass that spans forever before them. 

Conservation of nature is the goal and leaving no trace is the method. The people are kind and the government is understanding. They consult the locals before building on the landscape and provide social health care for all Kiwis, regardless of class. The tax is high, but the standard and comfort of living is so much higher.

This is Middle Earth.

I flew to Auckland, New Zealand on November 29, 2014 from Sydney, Australia. It was a muggy day with an illuminating sun of burnt yellow and orange. While the orange sun contained promising joys, Jetstar’s orange airline did not. A delayed flight from 4:45 arrival to 5:30 led to a stressful evening. After finally getting through customs, I met up with my mom (the small kind Asian women in bright orange and yellow) and my mate Corbin. We walked over to pick up our car at the airport at 6:05 P.M. only to discover their office closed at 6:00 P.M. I was mortified. We had no car, no wifi and were stranded in a beautiful country. Although a bit put off by the stress of my plans falling through, we thought quickly and became resourceful.

I met my relatives for the first time, and thanks to their hospitality, stayed with them (Dom, Miriam, Celine, Dave, Jinkee) during my time in north island.

Although a shaky start, the journey became a ride I could only have imagined in the depths of my innermost being.

Hobbit Holes, Rolling Green Hills and Sheep, Oh My

A picture of one of the hobbit holes at Hobbiton
November 30th

A Peaceful Adrenaline Rush.

Oh Jucy. After finally picking up our jucy rental car we made our way to the Hobbiton Movie Set located in MataMata. For all I thought, this was going to be like any other drive, boring freeways and fast paced folks with little to no scenery in between.

I was beyond wrong (if that’s even possible).

The drive was peaceful and relaxing. We drove with ease, leaning into the bends of the road, as if we too were part of the endless green landscape. I wanted to take it all in. To open my eyes wide open and forever stamp the image of pure beauty in my mind. We took our time, gasped in awe after every turn and felt awake. Now this, this was living. The cookie cutter boxed living of suburbia was nowhere to be found. Just me, an abundant amount of sheep, and an unblemished land was all that there was and would be during the drive to Hobbiton.

At least, from my perspective.

The tour of Hobbiton was not only scenic but educational. I learned about Peter Jackson and the immense amount of time he took in creating the Shire until detailed to his own definition of perfection.

This intricate work (Painting leaves to a desired shade, taking apart and putting together trees, etc.) done by so many nameless workers produced a cultural boom that my generation would embrace and connect on for years and years to come. A cherished series, built up by those who didn’t want the fame and publicized to attract fans around the world. A living Middle Earth to those who just believed.

Thanks for the faith New Zealand.

We finished off the tour with a beer at The Green Dragon Inn and a feeling of satisfaction in experiencing a movie set created in nature to feature none other than nature itself.

Cutting Serenity with High

Taking in the beauty of North Island right before a zip line
November 30th

“They won't see us waving from such great heights, 'come down now,’ they’ll say. But everything looks perfect from far away, 'come down now,' but we'll stay.”
– The Postal Service

After a peaceful tour of Hobbiton I was ready to feed my adrenaline appetite and feel the rush of uncertainty. Corbin, Mom and I made our way to the town of Roturua and stumbled upon the Skyline. We ended up experiencing a Gondola ride, a couple scenic Luge rides down Mt. Ngongotaha, a 383 m zip line through the redwood forest, and a Quickjump with a 10 m freefall.

While the zipline was peaceful and scenic, the Quickjump balanced out the day with a high (literally), providing the opportunity for me to lose control and trust in faith.

I stood at the edge of the wooden ledge, my back to the drop and my eyes straight ahead. My heart beat to the drum of my nerves as I grasped the harness secured around my chest and waist. With no hesitation, I lifted my feet off the hard wood and fell back, freeing myself from the constructs of my own fear.

A short fall, but a huge leap in facing my fear of heights.

I was free. I felt time stand still as I stared at the magnificent trees and clear blue cotton sky waiting for the rope to break my fall. It broke. And I was lowered down into the dark soil that represented stability and safety. As I waited for the crew, I drifted into a mellow nonchalance that could be characterized as peace in testing the ambiguity of ropes and my own ability to trust in a force beyond the physicality of body and into creative sphere of mind.

The Light is in the Tunnel

Corbin, Mom and I before entering the Waitomo Caves
December 1st 

Plunge. Shiver. Awake. Alive.

I jumped back into the pitch black darkness in the cave, clenching the partially inflated grey tube under my legs, hoping it would break my fall.

Splash.

The icy cold water came up all around me as I looked up to a well-lit ceiling, reflecting an ecosystem of glowing warms pooping and feasting on their prey. Gross. But oh was it beautiful. It was a light in a world of darkness to guide the living to the comfort of day and the dreamers to their most innermost senses.

The Black Labyrinth Tour, known to some as just “cave tubing,” is held at the Waitomo glow warm caves in Waitomo, North Island. The tour includes black water tubing, waterfall leaping, and serene floating down Ruakuri Cave for a total of three hours.

The water may have been icy but my heart was ablaze with fire.

I was able to plummet into an abyss of darkness with no worries or fears of falling into the unknown. I knew I would eventually hit that sharp chilly water, so why not enjoy the free fall along the way? 

The air cruised over my wet suit and fell flat in my chest as I breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. I wasn't falling, I was jumping. I chose to reach out and taste the pure sweetness of adrenaline and test the waters of my own confidence. I did it. And I wanted to do it again and again and again.

While the jump was a flash of high, the float down the calm black waters was a period of quiet self-reflection.

The dark cave surrounded me much like the dark places of the mind. I slowly moved forward, floating easily with little effort, letting the water and the light from above guide me to its predestination.

Although I fight against the current often to shape my own destiny, I sometimes forget to sit back and enjoy the journey. While trying to reach the light (my goals) at the end, I lose track of the most important aspect of accomplishment. It is the light throughout the tunnel, the learning experience, the fall.

In that moment, I let my limbs go limp and my body grow cold as I warmed the passion of my heart with the light hidden within the dark.

-SOUTH ISLAND-

To Live

Flying over South Island, New Zealand.
December 2nd  - 7th 

White powdery clouds of lost souls
Flying
Breaking through only to be swept away into oblivion of doubt
Flying
Transformation, twisting those clouds and churning them into an infinitive heaven
Flying
Embracing lost directions and following the pulse of heart blindly
Flying
Finding satisfaction, peace in drifting through the qualms and embracing the journey
To fly
Oh to fly
To live

Jagged snow covered mountain tops and green hills coated the entirety of south island with a youthful essence. We flew into Queenstown, a small lovely town filled with tourists and unlimited adventure (if the price is right). It was a beautiful day with slight winds and chill. In order to drive up to Franz Joseph Glacier (4 ½ drive), we could only allocate the morning and afternoon to Queenstown. After looking through the pamphlets on adrenaline pumping activities, I yearned to stay longer. Instead of wishing, we decided to choose one activity to capture our time in Queenstown and give us a boost of energy for the long drive.

We decided on the shotover jet, a jet that speeds through canyons on the shotover river . As soon as we arrived via complementary bus, I knew we were in for a treat. We dressed quickly in life jackets and black waterproof cloaks that looked as if we were entering a “matrix world.”

Corbin and I jumped in the boat first and sat in the front with the driver while mom sat behind on the side. As the boat was filled with excited passengers, Corbin mounted his GoPro to capture the speedy ride. The driver suddenly hit the gas and we flew… We flew over the aqua blue water straight from the snowfall of the mountains without losing any momentum. The boat took us through the cool river, twisting and turning and hugging the sides. The rocks were close to my right, so close that I could stick my hand out and graze the side – that is, if I wanted to lose my hand to the force of speed and hard rocky cliff. The water was fresh and the ride was exhilarating. The driver “lost control” multiple times by spinning the boat until we were at the mercy of engine, boat, water and sky. It was fun, it was exciting – it was an energy booster.

Afterwards, we started on the beautiful journey to Franz Joseph Glacier. We stayed on a two lane road that weaved in and out of the mountains with no shortness of breathtaking views.

Finding peace in nature
The journey was scenic but required my undivided attention as I drove us on the edge of mountains with nothing to catch our fall. After hours and hours of driving and taking turns, toilet breaks and look out points, we were ready to arrive at a glacier that could invoke feelings of closeness to the almighty divine. Instead, we came to a sign in the road that read “Road Closed.”

I was devastated.

After speaking to a construction worker, I found out the road would be closed until 10:30 A.M the following morning. At this point, I could hardly contain my disappointment. I had a sky dive booked the next morning and no way to get there unless the construction work magically disappeared. 
Fortunately, I called the skydive company and was able to push my dive to a later time the next day. Our options were slim; we could stay at the motel or drive further and “camp out” by the road. 

We chose the road.

We drove past the “Road Closed” sign with a smirk and look of giddy rebellion. 20 minutes later we reached our stopping point. A metal gate blocked the drive, forcing us to stop and prepare for the night. We set up camp next to a cool and mellow river that reflected the billowing mountains overhead. Corbin and I gathered dry drift wood to build a fire and prove our self-sufficiency from modern day society. A couple of Bear Gryllses, taking advantage of nature’s natural resources. But where… where were the man-made matches? I guess we weren't as independent as we would like. 

None the less, we were in the making.

The sun drifted away and the night sky fell before us with a velocity of rapid succession. It was freezing. It was uncomfortable. Little to no sleep was had. But oh was it beautiful. The stars shed light on our situation. A dark sky with infinite bullet holes to let an illuminating love shine through. This was traveling. We do it to lose ourselves in the culture and nature of a foreign land while finding pieces of ourselves along the way we didn't even know existed. A peace from within provoked by an intimate experience only with mother earth. That connection, that strong yet delicate tie that could be broken with a honk of a horn or a negative thought was the lifeline to my own journey. It was the destination. It was the answer to my own wonder and incredulous feelings of lack of fulfillment and life meaning. I was alive.

As fate would have it, the helihike and skydive were both cancelled due to the cloudy fog and rain fall. We stayed a few nights in Franz Joseph to try and ride out the storms, but we had no luck. Instead, we walked as far as we could to the face of the glacier before having to turn back because of the pouring rain. A serene walk, but no sky dive or hike.

The Walk to the Glacier Face 
We fell short from the wild adventure but decided to keep positive and continue creating our own.


The beach I was sitting at in the small town called Hokitika 
The drive to Christchurch was scenic and enjoyable. Although a long drive, the mountains encapsulated the beauty. The water was aqua blue with a freshness that screamed youth and good health. At Christchurch, we explored the town and attended a cute farmers market that consisted of food trucks and dancing. The next day we traveled the main part of the city by trolley which only took about 25 minutes round trip. We got off and on, making use of the history lessons in between by the conductor throughout the day. All around, I witnessed the effects of the earthquake from 2011 which had destroyed the small city.

The aftermath of the earthquake on a church
Although a devastating blow, the community banded together and turned a tragic disaster into a blessing in disguise.

For the rest of the day we learned about New Zealand history at the Museum of Christchurch, walked the vibrant botanic gardens and enjoyed the rest of the night in the community.

We flew back to North Island the next day and had a lovely evening with the relatives and two of their friends. Good company, good food, good beer, good wine - and a hell of a good time. Kiwis know how to host and make you feel right at home.

While the trip was short with plenty left to see, I felt accomplished in making the most of my time and feeling a strong connection with the land that had provided. To see pure beauty unaltered, without the contamination of people and their structures felt heavenly. Paradise. A paradise for those who seek will find a gem in a world of ruin. It is called New Zealand. It is an abode of wonder, a journey to travel, a country to experience – a dwelling to live.  

Thursday 27 November 2014

Wine Country (Splendid Art)

Wine Tasting at Yangarra Estate Vineyard
Goodbye and Farewell University of Sydney.  

It was a wild ride with friends gained and experiences never to be forgotten. This goodbye was sprinkled with a sense of accomplishment in jumping into a new curricular that pushed me to learn differently and grow through a foreign academic terrain. My last exam at USYD was for my law and contemporary society class on a striking morning that represented the grandeur of law. Just like the law, my time at USYD followed the rules of my own character along with the emotional and situational factors that caused me to reevaluate my own rules and what I wanted to accomplish with my life.

My last glance at USYD turned into the view of a clear blue sky as I flew above the clouds and into one the friendliest places on earth, known as Adelaide, South Australia.

Adelaide

November 12tjh

Ellie and I traveled to this wonderful city of friendly folks in aims of exercising our bravery through WWOOFING.

Willing Workers On Organic Farms, aka WWOOF, is a program that allows those willing to work 4-6 hours a day the chance to travel and discover new environments and cultures on a budget. In exchange for working on an organic farm, the host family provides all meals and accommodation along with additional perks (i.e. educational lessons, farming techniques, scenic tour) depending on the hostess.

After receiving our membership, Ellie and I searched through every participating host farm in South Australia to gauge what we thought would be the best fit. We knew we wanted to get the most out of our time in Australia and had both never been to the south. After days of researching and email threads we finally decided on two farms – an organic oyster farms 9 hours away from Adelaide and an organic vineyard 45 minutes away from the city.

Ellie and I checked into our Youth Hostel Accommodation (YHA) - an affordable, friendly and clean hostel that I recommend for those wanting to travel around Aus.- and explored Adelaide for the day. We fell in love with the slow and lazy pace of the city and could hardly fathom the kindness of the people of Adelaide. People, left and right, willing to direct us wherever we wanted to go and make friendly small talk in exchange for nothing but a smile it seemed. Why were these Adelaideins so friendly? Was it the peaceful way of life in the south? Or the feelings of warmth only a community of do-gooders and pure hearts can expose? It was neither. Well, maybe it was a little of both. The people we encountered were kind to us because that’s exactly who they are. They weren’t putting on a show or trying to gain anything in return, rather, they were exercising the inner workings of their greatest talent in being themselves.

And that, that in itself is the definition of what it means to be human.

That day in Adelaide was filled with an enriching balance of local creamy gelato paired with the sweetness of compassion surrounding me and my humble existence.

Churning Butter

Plans fall apart so better experiences can fall into place.

Ellie and I trotted to the bus station with the guidance from an elderly man who enjoyed exerting loud and long winded conversations with anyone willing to listen. Bless his heart.

As it turned out, the bus fair to and from Angel Oysters would cost $275 and a long bus ride of an estimated 20 hours in total. We felt defeated. We had traveled all the way to South Australia to work on an oyster farm to experience work that would provide us with knowledge, personal challenges and growth through experience. We sat down in the hard chairs of the bus station with no plan and limited funds. Some would call this a fork in the road, a speed bump, a barrier hindering our aims. I call it, churning butter.

Just like butter, the most rewarding experiences are produced by a mixture of ingredients such as obstacles and triumphs. After a long exertion of physical and intellectual power of the one churning the materials, the smooth and silky butter is produced. Otherwise known as a golden reward that can be used to enhance the taste of other foods or future experiences.

Just like that fresh butter, Ellie and I used this golden obstacle to think on our feet, move on, and be optimistic for the future. We called The Yangarra Estate Vineyard in hopes of being able to arrive early to WWOOF. As fate would have it, our wwoofing host would be in Adelaide the next day picking up supplies (and us).

We couldn’t have been more grateful. All we had to do was tough out the churn to create an experience dictated not by ourselves but by the forces of an unplanned direction.

Home is a Concept, Heart is Constant

November 13th

To make the most out of our day, Ellie and I decided to educate ourselves about aboriginal culture at the Museum of South Australia before our WWOOFing host (Peter) came to pick us up and drive us to the vineyard.

We enjoyed the taxidermy of various animals and later broke off to explore aboriginal, contemporary and Asian art separately.

A painting of an aboriginal from all angles 

As I read about the aboriginal culture and how they once lived, I felt close to the people and their way of life. Their simplicity of living and the constant struggle to survive and fight off danger seemed exhilarating yet terrifying. Although living off of the Australian land alone would provide a strong connection to mother earth, I couldn’t possibly fathom living only for survival. While finding solace in nature is the goal, there must be a balance in finding joy in educational pursuits such as learning the art of philosophy or arithmetic. While their natural instincts were magnificent, they still yearned to learn the art and theoretical world (as shown through aboriginal art). 

The meat of the matter is, they too were curious. Curious for life beyond survival and a constant urge to feel connected to the dirt that kept them alive.

Their home was a concept. A place where they could find nourishment and shield themselves from danger. A notion of security.

But their heart, oh their heart, was a constant. An unceasing tie of heart and land where they found solace through the grounds of creation.

Yangarra Estate Vineyard (WWOOF)

November 13th – 27th

The Vineyard

Yangarra Estate Vineyard is a “biodynamic wine farm” located in Kangarilla, South Australia.

Row after row of green luscious vines, ready to prosper into maturity and be picked off by the harvester. A sight for the appealing eye that could only invoke feelings of amity and wonder. 

How fortunate were we? 

We received the opportunity to work in wine country, to breathe the fresh scent of soil, and to feast our eyes upon the rustic state of natural infinity.

We ended up setting home base with Peter in his humble abode located on the winery.

Our duties were far from what we expected. Again, an unplanned direction. Although disappointed to not have been able to pick the grapes from the vine (Harvest is in February) we were fortunate to have learned about ourselves through other sorts of manual labor.

A list of tasks accomplished
  • -          Feed hay to the horses at 7 A.M. and 6 P.M. During the evenings, mix a variety of grains, salts, and so forth for Peter’s horses.
  • -          Place rugs on the horses depending on the weather. Choose from different rugs for different weather conditions
  • -          Feed dogs a balanced meal each evening and feed cats
  • -          Haul sticks to burn pile
  • -          Weed and fill holes with manure
  • -          Domestic house duties (weed, mow, weed wack, laundry, dishes etc.)
  • -          Spread wood chips in the garden

While the weather was bipolar our feelings of affection for our temporary stay were stagnant.

Dealing with the bipolar weather of thunderstorms to sunshine

As a native Californian, Mexican food is a lifeblood and a part of life. In Australia, it is not.

The alternative, “Family meals” every night that mostly consisted of Mexican food made by two young girls who played chef and a man who could actually cook.

In addition to the food, the beverages were superb. Although not a fan of red wine, Peter’s red wine was the most flavorful I have ever tasted.

Oh the perks of life.

As a reward for working with the horses, Peter saddled me up on one of his favorite horses (Katie) and we went for a ride along the endless rows of vineyard.

I enjoyed feeling powerful yet powerless on the back of an athlete who could knock me down to the dirt or build my adrenaline high.

Kisses 
Watching the rows of vine through the guiding light of sunshine was a spectacle of beauty for those with an appreciation for the unalloyed elements of soil and water.

To some visitors, Yangarra Estate Vineyard represented nothing but a means to wine – a necessary component but not the main attraction.

To me, the vineyard was a splendor of art.

It is a fruit of wine and chemistry. A tedious but rewarding job for those with pallet. A way of life. 

Just like the aboriginals, the vine tenders connected to the dirt that provided a platform for growth not only for the vines but for those willing to dig the soil and dig life. 


Wednesday 12 November 2014

It’s Melbourne Mate!



November 1 – 5

Travel with your heart.

Let it be filled with endless experiences.

For one day you will grace the earth with its bursting seams.

Lately, I have been obsessed with inspirational travel quotes, always seeking new and poetic words to fill my changing wallpaper, to remind myself of whom I am and why I do. As I sit here in this plastic and cold chair in a dimly lit corner of the library, I can’t help but think, “Why do I search for quotes to explain my travels? They don’t define my experiences but lightly murmur the surface feel.” 

Therefore, I have decided to quote myself – as shown above. I believe there is a poet inside all of us. It is hidden but always present. The difficulty is in pulling those experiences and translating them into a few words that punch the gut of the reader and send ripples down the spine and electric shocks to the heart.

The poet arouses the sentimentalism and brings the emotionally dead to life. She is the mirror to her own adventure and the vicariously lived. So don’t be surprised if she often stares, facing her own adrenaline, daring it to grow a thickening layer of maturity to coat her naïve heart.

Although far from a poet, I am a young woman with an adventurous spirit, always thirsting for growth through travel and an exigency to lengthen that growth through reflection.

Dear Day One: A Strange Endearing City

My latest escapade with my best mate (Cristal McClure) was to the breathtaking city of Melbourne (literally breathtaking, since I caught a bug that made it hard to breathe between coughing fits).

Melbourne, a city paved in art and filled with cute cafes and delicious coffees. The city is quite large with sidewalks that double in width and buildings that tower overheard. Although a vast city, there seemed to be a small disproportionate amount of people filling the streets. In other words, a large city with not a lot of people. I digged it. I enjoyed walking the near empty streets with my mate, getting lost within the parameters of the district and the constructs of my own mind.


Melbourne

We explored the streets and watched the people, one of our favorite pass times and method of growing comfortable in a new place. The day was spent on foot at a ground perspective, as Cristal and my adventures usually are. We stumbled across a digital arts type museum and a Nepal festival that aimed to preserve the Nepali cultures. Cristal and I enjoyed the art and farmers markets while appreciating the chilly weather in comparison to the heat of Sydney. We ate out and feasted on the delicious food Melbourne had to offer: a pastry snack from a local bakery, a grilled sandwich in a cobblestone backstreet littered with cafes, and a hot bowl of pho from a Vietnamese restaurant we couldn't possibly pass up.

Thanks to the kindness of a mate Cristal met during a case competition at the University of Washington, we stayed with her and her boyfriend outside the city along the water. The apartment was beautiful and the hospitality of Nicole and Alex was beyond what we could have ever asked for.

If this day taught me anything it’s that genuine compassion and heart span beyond the cold walls of evil that surround the selfish and spread light on our natural human tenderness. A city may just be a concrete jungle to some, but it is much more than that. It is a place where diversity festers and communication between cultures never stop. It is a platform for travel where the only limitations are the ones you put on yourself. People are inherently good; it’s just searching far enough and long enough to realize how kind communities choose to be.

Thanks Melbourne.

Although the city provided us with an outlet to feast on our curiosity, we wanted more. Something was missing and that something would become the most memorable and important part of our trip – the natural world.

Dear Day Two: You Are Magnificent (The Twelve Apostles and Great Ocean Road)


The Twelve Apostles

Sea salt, clear skies, white beaches, one winding road.

The long and winding road…. Yes, the start of a song and an overused metaphor that has been “metaphored” to death. We are all guilty of it. I am guilty. But in this case, the road played a crucial role in facilitating a pathway to beauty.


The road trip

Cristal and I booked a Great Ocean Road tour for our second day in Melbourne. Our day commenced at 6:00 A.M. and ended at 9:30 P.M. 

The tour consisted of morning tea along the beach with new mates, koala and bird watching, a pleasant walk through a forest and the main attraction, the Twelve Apostles.

Based off the shore of Port Campbell National Park in Victoria, Australia, the Twelve Apostles (Eight are left), stand tall against the crashing Pacific waves and frothy white water. The comparison of rigid cliff and smooth sand provide two drastically different perspectives of beauty that coexist in complementation.

I stared in awe, feeling as if I too could be a pillar. A pillar of strength and resilience to keep standing no matter what tribulations come my way. Just like those magnificent limestone stacks, I felt the roots of divinity and the power of physical existence.

Dear Day Three: A Race to the Finish (Melbourne Cup 2014)

Cristal and I at the races

“We’re those people”

Hello Flemington Racecourse. The journey to the stadium was no easy task. Instead of taking a cab, limousine, or helicopter, as most of the fans seemed to have arranged, Cristal and I decided to work our legs and walk to the Race Course in our fancy ($15) dresses and floppy sun hats. Being the economical travel buddies that we are, we wanted to save some cash and enjoy the hour or so walk to the races. We ended up walking next to a highway, speeding under overpasses trying not to get hit. 

We cracked a couple jokes and laughed the way there although having sore feet and tired arms from holding our hats down against the rushing winds.

As soon as we arrived to the outskirts of the racecourse, we knew we would be in for an interesting experience that we would take with us back to the states.

We walked through the gates under a tunnel of blossoming roses and sunshine peeking through grey clouds. The people were dressed in their fanciest attire. Men wearing well fitted suits and shiny shoes and women wearing colorful intricate dresses and matching hats.

Some of the spectators at the race dressed up in their finest attire

Champagne and blended cocktails was the drink (and meal) of choice for most gathered at the stadium, waiting for the horse races to begin.

Cristal and I took our place among the “general seaters” on the grass and positioned ourselves right next to the railing that blocked us from the athletic horses and jockeys. The announcer tuned on the loud speaker and the horses gathered in their stalls. The gun was shot and the race was off. We saw them racing on the big screen as the crowd went wild. The horses finally appeared from the distance as the ground started to shake from the speedy race to the finish. They zoomed past us in the matter of a split second with a wind that caught my hair and fluttered the strands until coming to a dramatic halt. People all around jumped in their fanciest attire and spilt their drinks while cheering for their favorite horse, hoping for some kind of payoff for their calculated bets. The horses, bolted past the finish line with the jockeys whipping them sore. They crossed… and another race would presume.

Start, Repeat, Start, Repeat.

The Melbourne Cup would become an event we would never forget. I don’t think I will ever be able to forget the picture of the wealthy and those pretending to be out of my mind. I felt fortunate to have attended and been a part of a historical event that is Australia’s most popular race. But I realized who I am is not what others would want to be. Most people I have come across are in a frantic race, a race to the finish line of wealth and prosperity. Money. Money is the goal and money is the motivation behind the step. To me, money is a means, not a lifestyle. I realized the depths of my values and the disgust I find in superficial living. People, never wanting to challenge themselves and pursue their passions for the greater good out of fear of failing without a security net of funds to catch them. But then, what’s the fun in knowing the ending when the best part is not knowing where you’ll end up?

The experience taught me life and sport. Two horses died that day, one from over training and another from a wound acquired during the race. After learning about the devastating deaths I decided to do some research on horse racing in relation to Australia and the world. Like any business, this business had its skeletons in the closet. I felt ashamed. How could I have participated in a sport that encouraged animal abuse? Although feeling guilty, I felt grateful for the event and all that it taught me. If we hadn’t attended, I would have never thought to research and find my standing ground on the controversial issue of horse racing.

The day concluded with a laugh and a sigh in growing together as mates and taking part in a new found knowledge of who we are and why we travel.

Because it is never a race to the finish, but a ride along the contours of experience and integrity in being exactly who you are.