On A Year And A Bit of Saying Sure, Why Not?

When we first moved back to Australia eighteen or so months ago I was feeling a bit lost. It was partly the standard dislocation and general weirdness that is a normal part of the repatriation process. But is was also partly something more.

Living in Seoul I legally wasn't allowed to work. So I dabbled in things here and there. I explored on foot and took lots of photos and wrote lots of words. I read and embroidered and did loads of paper craft. I always had projects on the go; I was never bored. And there was never any pressure to get a job, to go to work. My spouse visa wouldn't let me, but more than that people just accepted that as an expat wife my role was focussed on supporting the family and that was as it should be. But then we moved back home and suddenly everyone was always asking - sometimes tentatively, sometimes expectantly - Are you going back to work? 

Let's rewind a little. Before we moved overseas, I worked. Since my first 'proper' job in a bookstore at 16-ish I've worked. I've always wanted independence, I've always wanted to be self sufficient, I've always wanted to do well. Then we moved overseas and I stopped working and at first it was a bit scary, but after a year or so I adjusted and it was ace. It was fun to devote my time to my husband and step-sons, and to the house and the dogs. It was fun to have spare time for crafting and reading and blogging. And I appreciated it for the luxury it was.

But then we moved back home and it felt different. It felt like I should do something more with my time, with my life - and not just because people were telling me I should. I felt it too. I just didn't know what that something was. I knew what I didn't want to do - return to full time corporate work - but I didn't have a clear idea of what I did want to do. I was a bit confused about it all.

Within a few months of landing back in Australia, while all this was just starting to swirl about in my head, I found myself at ProBlogger. It was wonderful and fun and I met so many ace people. It was exciting and motivating, and completely utterly terrifying. I kept having these ridiculous circular conversations with myself that followed one of two themes:

Theme one: There's some things I think I'm pretty good at and I should totally dive in and just do those things, but - what if in reality I completely and utterly suck at those things? Let's face it, I have no f**king idea what I'm doing... 

Theme two: There's some things I think I'm pretty good at, but I'm in the ridiculously lucky position of not needing to make money so why should I feel the need to enter the marketplace, with all the pressure and stress and potential corruption of ideals that it may entail? Why can't I just enjoy life and employ my skills in non money making ways? Isn't ambition just thinly veiled vanity? A desperate need for outside approval? 

As you can imagine, neither were productive lines of thought.

And then Voices of 2014 happened. Some lovely person (I know who you are and I'm so very grateful!) nominated my little blog, and somehow I made it through to the top forty in the personal category. And because of that a few emails came my way - invitations to PR events and sponsor challenges. And I still had no idea what I wanted to do, and those circular arguments were still swirling about in my head, but I just started saying yes. I figured I'd see where things went, see what felt right. I figured I'd cross the river by feeling the stones beneath my feet (thanks for that one, Deng Xiaoping).

So I said yes to some fantastic freebies and to some things I put cold hard cash behind. I said yes to blogger brunches and photography workshops. I finally said yes to a Photoshop class, and a pretty intensive weekend learning all about freelance writing (both worth every penny). I said yes to Facebook groups and Instagram and real life meet-ups.

I thought that maybe saying yes would help me figure out what I wanted to do. And it has. After a year and a bit of saying sure, why not? I'm definitely more certain about a few things.

Firstly, I'm clearer about why I want to make some money. I know that in the grand scheme of things I'll never contribute to the family finances in a meaningful way (I contribute much more in other ways). But I want to have enough cash to pay for a camera lens, or a magazine subscription, or to buy that dress that I really don't need, or to cover the cost of upgrading my flight to Europe (that's what I'm working towards right now!). It might all sound frivolous and silly, but it gives me a strange peace of mind. It means something, to me.

Secondly I'm much clearer about how I want to make money. And it's not through my blog, at least not directly anyway. It's through freelance writing, and photography, and collaboration, and through saying yes to very select opportunities that do come my way thanks to Good Things*.

And I've realised just how much doing things leads to doing other things. I've realised how little actions that may not feel like much at the time can lead to opportunities down the track. Sometimes way down the track.

And all of this has lead to where I'm currently at. I'm writing six posts a month on this blog which was my intention at the start of the year (yay me!); I've been nominated for Voices of 2015 (thank you, whoever you are!); I'm writing for the Threadless blog (I'm working on a post or three for them this weekend, actually); I've hit 24 sales in my Etsy store; and I've just submitted a 4000-ish word article - with photos - for one of my favourite magazines (my first properly paid commission, and the editor loves it! Yippee!). I've also recently submitted a paid-in-kind interview with one of my favourite illustrators for a fabulous little magazine; plus I'm in the midst of organising a trial run as a contributing photographer (yes, a paid position!) for a website I've long enjoyed (really hope I can pull that one off...). Oh, and I'm a finalist in the mobile category at the Head On Photo Festival.

I know that not all of these things will work out (and yes part of me is scared to publish this post in case it all goes to s**t). I know that next month may not be quite as awesome and opportunity filled as this one. I know that I'll have to work hard and stay focussed and keep thinking and planning and pitching if I want to continue writing. But right now it feels like there are some pretty ace things afoot, some pretty ace things indeed!

I still don't really know what the f**k I'm doing (does anyone?), but I reckon I'll keep saying yes for a little while longer.

Things I Miss...

There is so much that is awesome about being back in Australia. 

The gorgeous Sydney beaches, the good wine, the nectarines and sweet, sweet corn. How my Mum can just 'pop up' to Sydney for a few days, or how I can head to Melbourne for my sister's super fun 40th without too much trouble. Being able to spend more time with friends and family, and finally meeting some of my virtual friends in the real world (and finding out that they are just as ace off line as on!). So much awesome.

But…there are things I miss, about being overseas and about having a home (we're still living in our 'cosy' serviced apartment and most of our stuff is still in storage somewhere). In no particular order, here are some things I miss right now:

Ferdi and Elfi

The kim chi fries at Vatos

Namdaemun's ribbon shops (but finding this Australian website has eased the pain somewhat)

My scanner (you don't realise how many times a day you scan and email something until you have to walk to Officeworks every time you need to do it)

An internet connection that doesn't drop out every few seconds and can cope with having 15+ tabs open at once 

Mandoo! Soup! Noodles! Soupy Noodles! With Mandoo!

My husband having his own office (right now I'm hearing every word of his midnight conference calls…)

My washi tape stash 

Our books
Watching movies on long haul flights

The cold (I know this sounds crazy - I'm loving the beautiful early summer in Sydney but I'm also strangely missing that sudden drop below zero in Seoul...) 

My tote bag collection (I didn't bring any with me, but I refuse to buy anymore as I have too many…can't wait to break them all out of storage; I miss this one the most)

Not having to worry about my purse / backpack / camera being pinched 

Muji, Uniqlo and all the cheap but good 'Made in Korea' stuff (knits and socks especially)

Having only a short flight between me and two of my favourite cities in the world 

Everything being new and strange and kind of wonderful because of that...

A Little Note About Life Right Now...

You may have noticed things have been a little quiet over here lately, quieter than usual. It's not because I don't have anything to blog about. There's fifteen draft posts sitting here waiting to be finished, asking to be written. 

I want to tell you about the things I've learnt from living overseas, and the things I'm loving about being back in Australia and the things I miss about Korea. And I want to tell you about the ups and downs of being a step mum. And I also really want to give you an update on The Big Project; to show you the progress and let you know how awesome our architect has been through the whole process. 

But, as much as I really want to do all that, it just hasn't been a priority for me right now. And I need to accept that - to acknowledge that that's the choice I'm making, rather than feel frustrated that I haven't hit publish on those draft posts. I'll get to them one day, it's just not today. 

Because today I'm focussed on spending time with the husband before he heads off on another long-ish overseas trip. On setting up the house for the step-sons so it feels like a comfortable place for them, and so that it's easy for them to transition from their Mum's house to ours and back again. I'm focussed on enjoying the sunshine, the unseasonable warmth, and on being active with tennis games and gym visits and trips to the beach. And - let's be honest - I'm also focussed on eating all the things in Sydney. 

I'm also focussed on less fun things like sorting out the gas and water and electricity and wifi and car insurance. And pointlessly fretting over our cash flow. Oh, and the ironing. The endless, mind numbing ironing. 

But it's actually pretty great, this keeping busy with good and mundane real world tasks. Because, to be honest, if I don't keep busy in the real world right now there's a high chance I'll fall into a bit of a hole...

Awhile ago I was chatting to someone who'd done the whole repatriation thing. She'd lived and worked in Europe for a few years. Had a great job, had a great life. And then she moved back home. And she was fine, until one day she found herself sobbing uncontrollably in the supermarket, thinking 'a few months ago I was spending my weekends in France and now I'm stuck in the suburbs of Brisbane figuring out which brand of butter to buy'. (I may be paraphrasing a little, but you get the gist). 

When I'm not busy I'm dislocated. I'm a bit lost (especially without my dogs). I don't know my routine yet, my direction. People keep asking me if I'm working, what I'm doing. And - long term - I'm not really sure how to answer that. So I'm going to keep soaking up the sunshine and hitting the gym and hanging out with the husband and step-sons. I'm going to keep focussing on what's happening in front of me, right now, for a little while longer. Bear with me.

The First Few Days : Random Thoughts on Moving 'Home'

After a frustrating last day in Seoul (it's a long story), we touched down in Sydney early Sunday morning. Not for a fleeting visit, for good. (Maybe.) We are home. 

Here are some things I've been thinking : 

- The first few days after a big move suck because you remember all the things you need right now (like health care details and internet banking passwords and so much more) that are currently in a box on a boat and won't be seen for a few months yet...I keep waking up at 3am in a mild panic thinking things like 'Oh no! My business cards are still in my filing cabinet (which is now on a boat) and ProBlogger is next week! Ughhh!'. (Thank goodness for moo.com's rush orders!).

- There is a massive gap in the market for corporate approved, pet friendly accommodation. Right now our dogs are in quarantine so they couldn't be with us anyway, but they'll be out in under a month and they'll have to go to a boarding kennel until The Big Project is finished. The company my husband works for is covering most of our temporary accommodation, which is really very awesome, but it does mean we have to stay with an approved provider. And not a single one of those are pet friendly. 

- Spring has only just started and already half of Sydney seems to have misplaced their wardrobe. (File this one under 'reverse culture shock'.) 

- It's rather helpful to be speaking the same language as the waiters and shop assistants and service people, but I really, really don't like being able to understand what all the people around me in cafes and restaurants and trains are saying. 

- Just because you speak the same language doesn't mean things will suddenly be easy to sort out. Paperwork and red tape and ridiculous rules are universal. This is easy to forget. 

- Related - during all the mad packing and organising in Seoul I kept thinking 'once I get to Sydney I'll be able to relax, for a few days at least'. Um, no. Not at all. It has been a ridiculously busy few days. Everything still needs to be done, and new things are constantly cropping up. Hoping the weekend brings a bit of breathing space...

- People aren't so friendly when you're all the same. In Seoul, whenever one of our young neighbours got in the lift with us they'd smile, giggle nervously, wave, say 'hi', ask where we were from. We stood out in Seoul, and people were drawn to that. I think there's also something about the community minded collectivist culture that you find across Asia, something that makes daily connections and polite hellos the norm. Also, in the expat world you kind of revert back to primary school friendship making techniques (basically 'hi, you look nice and we're in the same general vicinity, wanna play?'). You kind of forget that the real world isn't like that; that people tend to freak out when you randomly smile at them. 

- Sydney doesn't know the meaning of cold (and I'm okay with that). 

- Australian produce - dear lord I love you. I've basically spent every spare moment of the last few days wandering the supermarket aisles hugging fresh herbs and shedding tears over the perfect corn cob. And don't get me started on the dairy cabinet (ricotta! feta! cottage cheese!). 

- Everyone welcomes you home, but to be honest it doesn't feel like home, yet. 

The best description I can come up with for the past few days? Surreal. And exciting. 

*************

ps. Thank you all so much for the Sydney advice in response to my last post! So much helpful info!

Sydney, here we come! (Help me, please!)

With the moves we've made over the past few years, the stuff I've found the most dislocating hasn't been the change in housing or climate or language. You'd think it would've been all that big stuff, but it's actually all the little day-to-day things. It's figuring out how to pay your electricity bill; what your postal address is (this can be trickier than it sounds!); and where to buy fresh flowers without the need for a second mortgage. It's finding a doctor, a hairdresser and, perhaps most importantly, a waxer you can trust. (Seoul failed me completely on that last one. Hong Kong however delivered in spades.) 

Right now, it's only three more sleeps until we make the big move (!), and whilst I know a bit about where to shop and where to eat in Sydney, there's a lot of day-to-day stuff I don't know. So Sydnesiders - I need your help! Please, please share your Sydney knowledge with me! Got a favourite place for a cuppa, pizza or yum cha? A trusted GP? Know the best (or best value) mani/pedi in town? Tell me, please! We'll be living in the inner east, but I'm happy to travel, especially if there's food involved...

Here's some of the things I'm after: 

- A hairdresser that knows a thing or two about hair dye. Especially one that does not worry about trying to make blonde look natural. I'm not a natural blonde. I don't want to pretend I'm a natural blonde. I want cold, near-white, clearly fake tresses. From my experience there are far too many hairdressers in the world obsessed with hair looking natural. I do not want you, natural guy. 

- A good (flat-ish) bike path or three. Actually, back up a step - a good place to buy a bike. I want one of those retro looking ones in a cute colour like turquoise that you could probably buy for under three dollars in China. And I want a basket on the front big enough for two dachshunds. The basket will need to have restraining devices. And sedatives. 

- A good dog park or three. Oh! And a dog beach or three! 

- A good GP. Even better would be a good GP that specialises in women's health. 

- A dentist that doesn't make me feel like crying as soon as I walk in. Or who at least shows some sympathy when I do sob uncontrollably as soon as I sit in the dentist's chair (true story!).

- A yoga teacher who has the right balance of compassion and working you until you cry. A yoga teacher who mixes things up and adapts routines to the changing seasons and the moods of the group. 

- A good gym. One with machines that work, decent air conditioning, clean locker rooms and a non-judgemental vibe. 

- A running path that's mainly flat (I'm not ready for hills yet, and there's a lot of hills in Sydney!).

- A pedicure where the polish lasts for a solid three weeks. And where they don't make me feel like a goose for not knowing anything about all those lady type things (gel nails? what? and how do I get one of these kind of manicures? I am clueless...). 

- Somewhere to get a massage that strikes the right balance between clean, comfortable surrounds and price. A place that doesn't make you feel like a 'happy ending' is part of the standard services, but that also doesn't make you break out in a sweat when you see the bill.

- Some kind of club or group or something. To do with photography or craft or books. Preferably involving nice people, baked goods and cups of tea (or possibly glasses of wine). That would be ace. 

- The best yum cha in Sydney. We will travel for good dumplings. 

- And maybe a real life friend or two, to have the occasional stroll / dog walk / coffee /  gelato with. 

- And...anything else you think I should know about the sparkly gem that is Sydney!

Three More Emotions of Repatriation

Emotion 7 - Getting Stuff Done 

It starts getting near the pointy end, near to the actual moving day, and you get down to business. You are focussed. You are a machine. An email sending, form filling, hotel booking machine. You make categorised, prioritised lists of things you need to do. And then you do them. You organise import permits and insurance. You cancel your cable, find a home for your fish. You book storage units and flights and serviced apartments. 

You don't ponder the pros and cons, you don't mope about this or that, you just get stuff done. You don't waste time with things you'd normally enjoy, like preparing delicious meals, you just eat whatever's easy and you get stuff done. You barely sleep, you stay off Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Candy Crush for hours at a time (okay, maybe it was just the one hour), you don't blog or play with Photoshop. You just get stuff done. 

Emotion 8 - Delirium / Exhaustion 

You see all those ticks on your to do list and you think 'I am so freaking organised! I am the freaking QUEEN of getting stuff done!'. And then, seeing as you are a queen and all, you ask the dogs to curtsey before you. And you wonder if someone should make you a crown. And you giggle to yourself, a little hysterically. And you think - perhaps it's time for bed...

And you wake up the next morning and your eyes are scratchy and your throat is sore and your glands are swollen. And lots of people tell you to take it easy, take a rest. So you do. You sleep in, and you spend a day reading, and listening to the radio, and mainlining vitamin C and zinc. You have a soothing soup for lunch and later you play sous chef to your husband while he cooks up a tasty dinner. The next day you're refreshed and ready to take it all on again. 

Emotion 9 - The Grab Bag 

You don't really feel an emotion, you feel all the emotions. Not quite at once but in rapid, ever changing succession. Little things set you off. Frustration, triumph, annoyance, elation, depression, fear, stress, excitement, confidence, happiness, tranquility...all wash over you a few times a day. 

You book a beach holiday with the dogs (something you haven't been able to do in Korea) and you feel extravagantly happy. You plan to see your family just before xmas (something you haven't been able to do while living overseas) and you feel overwhelming excitement. 

But then you book a boarding kennel for the dogs, it's where they'll live while you're in the serviced apartment, and you feel indescribably sad (and strangely afraid). You go to the vets to get a lump tested on one of the dogs, and you can't help but shed a tear or two while waiting for the results. You think 'What if it's bad? What will we do?'. After ten minutes they say they're 90% sure it's not bad, and you are so ridiculously relieved and thankful. 

Later, you look at the husband's planner and say 'Oh - you're going to Hong Kong? I'll come too...' but then your voice trails off when you realise by then Hong Kong will be eight hours away, not three. You're reminded that things are going to change; things are going to be very different, very soon. You find out a bill hasn't been paid, an email has bounced back, your credit card has been cancelled - and you feel annoyance and frustration out of all proportion to the situation. 

You realise perhaps you are not quite as refreshed and ready as you thought. So you go to the gym, and then do some stuff. You edit a bunch of photos, and then do some stuff. You have lunch with a friend, and then do some stuff. You realise that there's no mad race, that you are actually pretty organised, that things will fall in to place. That it's about balance, and that if you look after yourself you'll do a better job of everything. And that you need to take the time to savour the days you have left in this crazy city.

*************

If you're wondering what the first six emotions of repatriation are you can read all about them here. You may want to have a stiff drink handy. 

And yes, for the quibblers, I understand some of these aren't technically 'emotions'. But I don't care.

The Six Emotions of Repatriation* (so far)

Emotion 1 - Excitement 

Finally! You get confirmation that the move back home (that's been a possibly, maybe for the past six months) is definite, it's happening! And although the move is still many months away you feel joy, excitement, elation. 'I'm going home!' you think. Back to good restaurants and shoes that fit me and English speakers and lamb, delicious lamb and my family, my sister and my nephews, and well priced delicious wine and trips to the beach with the dogs and friends, old and new, and clean air and, and, and! You think 'life is going to be easy again!'. 

Emotion 2 - Fear 

You think 'life is going to be easy again.' You realise that you love living abroad, being a stranger. You love the day to day challenges; the living in blissful ignorance, not speaking English for days on end. You love the apartment you've been living in for 3+ years; it feels like home. 

On a trip back to Australia you walk down Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, trying to really imagine living in this city again, and all you can think is that it feels like a small country town. Quiet, isolated, remote. And you are not special there. You think 'is this the end of adventure? Is my life just going to be a comfortable beige blur from now on?'. 

And then you think about the move a bit more and you realise that you can't use visa restrictions and language barriers as an excuse any more, people are going to expect you to get out there and do something with your life. Which scares you. 

And then there's the uncertainty, the questions. Where can I find 4 dollar soupy noodles in Sydney? (I'm pretty sure the answer is - nowhere). How will we manage 'co-parenting' when everyone's living in the same city, the same country? Will I go to parent-teacher night? How will I get my fix of cheap, cute stationery? How will I cope with shop assistants talking to me, in English? Does the husband really expect me to do the ironing? You fear the big stuff - becoming stagnant; changing roles and relationships - and you fear the little stuff. 

Emotion 3 - Regret 

You realise the move really is on and time is running out, and a strange thing happens. All those things that were driving you completely crazy about Korea (or insert-your-expat-country-name-here), those things that had you weeping with frustration, they disappear. Suddenly all you notice is how breathtakingly pretty the city looks in Spring, how much you love kim chi, how great the shopping is. You notice how comfortable you feel in your neighbourhood - even though you'll never look like a local, you feel kind of like a local. And even though logically you know all the (very valid) reasons why you made the decision to move back home, emotionally you feel a sort of soft regret. 

And you think of all those weekend trips to places that are (relatively) short hops away (Kyoto, Suzhou, to name two) that you never took. The road trips, the city excursions, the hikes. The craft and cooking classes. The blog posts you never wrote...time is running out. 

Emotion 4 - Panic 

As the move looms closer, you start to panic. Panic at the thought of all that stuff (oh, so much stuff!) that needs to be moved across oceans. Bouts of de-cluttering follow. With a slightly manic glint in your eye, you throw out whole boxes of scrap paper, a stack of DVDs you'll never watch again and a broken faux-Meccano roller coaster. You try to get the step-sons enthused about the process, but instead the youngest one just holds up a single piece of crumpled paper and asks 'soooo...do you think I should keep this?'. 

Then you start thinking about the actual move, and panic turns to stress. Yes there's the packing and unpacking, but there's also the disconnecting and connecting (phone, internet, gas, water, DTV...). And what do you do with the goldfish? And the pot plants? Then there's the transporting of dachshunds; the finding of doctors and dentists and waxers. And vets. Oh, and you need to find somewhere to live, for a little while, until you can move in to what will be your Home (yes, with a capital 'H'). And you realise when it comes to quality short term accommodation Sydney is the worst. And pet friendly? No way. 

Emotion 5 - Depression 

So you realise that for the first few months after the move you're probably going to be living in a soulless apartment that's over your budget. And the dogs, your dogs, will be spending time in quarantine and maybe then living at a boarding kennel. And everything will feel, will be, temporary. Again. 

And then something little happens, just an everyday frustration, and it's enough to push you over the edge. And you realise you may have just yelled at some poor customer service person, or maybe you're sitting at your computer with tears in your eyes and your not quite sure why. You realise it's because you don't actually deal very well with uncertainty, and everything, everything is uncertain right now. 

Time for a stroll in the sunshine, a good meal, a good book, a glass of wine. Some pom pom making. Time for a deep breath. 

Emotion 6 - Acceptance 

You remember all that management training about circle of influence / circle of concern. You realise you cannot control everything, and that actually that's part of what you've loved about living overseas. You write a list and start working on what you can, and let go of what you can't. You start cramming in all those city excursions and blog posts. You make plans for next year, for when you are Home; things you want to achieve that could not have been possible whilst you were living abroad. You get excited about the possibilities again. And you realise that no, it's not the end of adventure. That it's the start of something new. And just like the past 6 years it will be both wonderful and mundane. 

*************

*Is it just me or is repatriation a really ugly word? It kind of sounds like a medical procedure or some sort of 'enhanced interrogation' technique...