Those who dream are resourceful and those who are resourceful make their dreams a reality
Showing posts with label Self-Reflection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Self-Reflection. Show all posts

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.  

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

With Nature We Are Infinite


Royal National Park

We are body. We are soul. We are mind.

But are we infinite?

I believe in an unbounded natural experience that can only be understood by doing. This experimental learning theory, known as creating meaning through direct experience (theory of experience), was pioneered by psychologist and education reformer John Dewey (Neill, 2005).

In order to gain infinity in the natural world, I believe to experience the beauty of life first hand, or to engulf oneself in mother earth's divinity, is to feel as endless as the vast pulse of sea and land before us.

This last weekend, I received the chance to breathe deeply and feel existence.

During my semester abroad at the University of Sydney, Australia; I chose to enroll in the course "Learning in Outdoor Education" taught by Ian Boyle. For our first natural learning experience, we journeyed to the beautiful Royal National Park for a day hike (Aug 16), located about 40 minutes away from uni.



Google Maps: Distance from the University of Sydney to Royal National Park


We started off our adventure by breaking into separate groups of about 15 students per one instructor. I was fortunate enough to receive the witty and knowledgeable Wayne Cotton as my outdoor education guide. We got to know each other through "the name game" and ice breakers. Although I had recognized some members of my group from lectures and tutorials, I had never had a long form conversation with them until this trip. Come to find out, these students were from all over the world and had a lot to share about their cultures and countries.



A photo collage of my hiking group

After getting to know surface details about one another we received a 10-15 minute period of solo time along one of the cliffs. This alone time was by far my favorite part of the adventure. The weather was chilly and overcast with slight winds and showers. At first I wasn't quite feeling up to the hike. I hadn't gotten much sleep that night on account of a long night out dancing with the mates and waking up to the cold weather didn't add to my enthusiasm. The bus ride made me nauseous and quite frankly I just wanted to crawl back in bed and catch a couple extra zzzs. My mentality changed as soon as I sat down on that cliff, opened my eyes, and inhaled deeply.

I sat by the far end of the cliff about 20 feet from the drop where the rock fell down to the cold crashing waves of the pacific ocean. The air felt refreshing and cool on my skin as I listened to nature's rumbling yet peaceful sounds.




As I sat there transfixed by nature's glory, I thought about those common topics that seem to rest within us all: What is the meaning of life? What is my purpose? How can I become a better version of myself? These questions are never easy to answer, and as such, do not have a simple black and white answer. As I pondered over my thoughts, I let my eyes wander across the endless ocean to the point where the sky and water joined forces as if to profess its yearning for affection from other natural forces as well as the human race. This thought led me to think about my life course and how insignificant some of my so called "problems" really are. I thought about taking a break from my daily routine back home and getting in touch with the very earth which sustains my existence and feeds my craving for natural adventure. Why not get away from the hustle and bustle of city life, constantly crowded with others innovative ideas, to listen to my own heartbeat and soul?  

While I idolize the city and my journalism dreams it represents, New York will always be there. On the other hand, nature's beauty and the outdoor experiences will not always be sustained. Below is a self-reflection video I made a couple days after returning from the trip: 




Initially, before the Royal National Park hiking experience, there's nothing more that I could have wanted from life than to become a successful young journo with a passion for telling the lives of the voiceless, the ones with stories worth telling and lives worth fighting for. While I still feel that same passion and drive burning within my heart, I now feel a fresh sense of purpose. A purpose that thrives off of my career objectives and humanitarian goals, almost to say, "Hey Jenn, you need some balance in your life."

My goal in journalism has always been to renew compassion within our human race; that very same compassion that has grown cold. To provide a throbbing pulse of kindness and generosity within each and every individual to connect them in a way which makes them feel more human than skin deep. I now know that before I can do this for others, I must become the best me I can become, that is, a well cultured and traveled young woman with a strong connection with the outdoors. To become a better writer, I must first become a better human. And to do that, I must experience the world with a sense of adrenaline and tranquility that can only be provided through natural challenges bestowed upon me by mother earth herself. 

After mulling over my thoughts, I was left with a sense of ease and calm. I had faced my understanding of purpose, came up with short and long term goals, and was left with Australia's magic: its natural scenery. 


A sharp contrast of water to sky


A few shots of the aqua water and colorful stone along the hike

My drastic perspective alteration of my own life can be attributed to David Kolb's model of experimental learning. Kolb, an educational theorist, created his four step model in conjunction with other theorists such as Dewey to highlight the developmental process of the exercise and to accentuate the importance of direct experience (Dewey) in learning. Kolb's four step process is as follows:

The Experimental Learning Cycle 
1) Concrete experience
2) Observation and experience
3) Forming abstract concepts
4) Testing in new situations.
(Smith, 2010)

My direct experience of being surrounded by creation in solitary fulfills the first criteria while my observation of myself in relation to the natural world satisfies number two. From this experience and observation I was able to form an in depth abstract outlook on my life's course from beginning to end. Since the hike, I have tested my new found perspective on living by setting a goal to actively explore the earth's natural brilliance every weekend, a goal I have been accomplishing thus far.

It is noteworthy to point out that this learning experience can start at any one of these four steps, since learning is a continuous cycle (Smith, 2010). Why then, should we break down our experiences into a step by step process? James Neill, the author of Experimental Learning Cycles (overview of 9 experimental learning cycle models) states that "by breaking fuzzy processes (such as learning) down into distinct stages (such as a 4-stage model), the idea is that we can better understand, test out, and make use of the main components" (Neill, 2010).  Therefore, if we can grasp our own series of thinking, we can then use it as a guide in other situations that befall our way.

After becoming familiar with my own mentality that day and how my thoughts jump from one complicated topic to another, I felt adequate enough to stand up with confidence and trudge forward with a clearer view of who I was and who I wanted to become.

What started out as a gruesome morning turned into an uplifting and exhilarating experience. All from spending 10 minutes alone with nature. From then on, the chilly weather nor my responsibilities back home did not once enter my mind. Instead, I focused on the trail before me and the learning experiences left along the way.


During a portion of the hike I brought up the tail end of the group. Here is a picture of a couple students walking ahead of me as I immersed myself in the scenery.


References:

Neill, J. (2010, November 14). Experiential Learning Cycles.wilderdom.com. Retrieved August 26, 2014, from wilderdom.com/experiential/elc/ExperientialLearningCycle.htm

Neill, J. (2005, January 26). John Dewey, the Modern Father of Experiential Education. wilderdom.com. Retrieved August 26, 2014, from http://www.wilderdom.com/experiential/ExperientialDewey.html

Smith, M. K. (2001, 2010). ‘David A. Kolb on experiential learning’, the encyclopedia of informal education.  Retrieved August 26, 2014 from http://infed.org/mobi/david-a-kolb-on-experiential-learning/