I FOUND PEACE. BUT NOT FOR LONG.

I waited over 50 years to get there, and it didn't last long.

But I found it.

__________

I divorced (not by choice). I got through an HSC year. I packed up and sold a home. Then I put my entire life into storage. That was step 1.

Watching the packed removal van reverse out the driveway did instil a sense of calm and passion. I realised just how much stuff I had, often superfluous to needs. I had thrown out, donated, and sold a lot of stuff. This new lightness of belongings felt good, but it was not how I found my peace.

We have so much stuff.

Stuff accumulates, needs space, not to mention the cost, and eventually punishes us or our families in time. The kid's keepsakes were the killer, do I keep the year 4 report, it wasn't a big year, but it was cute, or the teddy bear she clung onto as a toddler, the tears when it got lost, and then found. Might have been a replacement bear but my memory is hazy.

Finally, leaving the shell of a former home one final time. Knowing that what comes next was up to me. I didn't need to consult, check, get consensus, organise into the minutia, or in fact do anything. I felt a growing feeling of opportunity in all of this. There were numerous possible journeys ahead, and the decision on which one to take was up to me. But that was not how I found peace.

Dream a little. Dream for you.

As a dad, I believe we can get lost in looking after everybody else, just not ourselves. I had already planned to travel for a couple of months and explained this to my kids agreeing I would find a home on my return. Traveling was step 2. I just needed this time. They listened but in retrospect, I'm not sure they heard.

I boarded the plane with a settled divorce, my belongings and car in storage, and the bare minimum. I surprised even myself as to how light one can travel when you don't have to accommodate date nights while away.

Oh, and my daughter thought it would be fun (and free) to tag along and suggested the Greek Islands. Time is precious when the kids get older, so of course, I agreed, and it was the best decision ever. But that is not how I found peace. 

The 50-hour odd trip via Hong Kong, Paris, Athens, and finally a 7-hour ferry trip didn't faze me. I felt like I was 25 again. I had options and I could change my plans on a dime.

We finally arrived at I believe one of the most beautiful places on earth, an island called Folegandros. Once we were shooed off the Greek ferry, that was it. Not many of us, a tiny port, stunning scenery, and an eerie quiet awaited.

Knowing I didn't have stuff to worry about was the beginning of my peace. My daughter was with me, and my son with his mother. My stuff stored away, and pending a warehouse fire it would be OK. I just wasn't prepared for the dust and mould on my return. I think they stored the stuff in a rainforest. And of course, I had no home to worry about or pay for.

Step 3A. Experiences. I spent two weeks in the Greek Islands. The first week I climbed the highest mountain on the island to the church of the Pountat with panoramic views at the top, I watched Sunsets from a bar perched at the top of a cliff at the Hotel Anemomilios, I ate Greek Salads and swam in the turquoise waters of Agkali Beach, every dam day. I did this on the island of Folegandros.

The second week I jumped off a 6m high cliff at Sarakineko beach, I climbed through a canyon and down a 5m high aging wooden ladder at Tsigrada beach (I'm scared of heights, so this was quite the rush), I swam in the stunning turquoise waters off Kleftiko, the pirate cove, and did all of this and more on the island of Milos.

I felt alive.

Then I moved to France, alone where I visited fresh produce markets, went trail running through vineyards and mountains, and drank 2-euro house wines in the tiniest pubs in the smallest French towns, glass after glass just to get WIFI.

Then back with both kids, we stayed in French Chateau in the middle of nowhere, watched the Euro final between France and Spain in a small farm town with a bunch of highly patriotic French farmers, with their tractors parked outside the pub.

We watched a rubber duck race on the river in Cambo-les-Bains (I admit this was a bit like watching paint dry, but there was a 5000 euro prize at stake which keeps you focused) and finally moved onto Spain where we went to Pamplona for the Running of the Bulls festival and danced and sang in the streets until 1am. (The kids might have done more dancing and singing than me).

 What a journey, what memories, and all this time I had nothing to worry about back home. Work I did, but via email. 

Time slowed. Details become experiences, and great memories.

Little things, like getting my daughter up early to watch the sunrise while drinking stolen instant coffee sachets, (she is a university student after all who hasn't seen the right side of 11am for the last 6 months). Driving the smallest rental car on narrow dirt roads to secluded and beautiful beaches being navigated (I use that term loosely) by my daughter. Jogging through the countryside, stopping to take selfies with donkeys. I lived cheaply, stayed at a friend's house for much of it, and loved every moment. I found my peace.

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Other than for the haunted house I lived in. I was convinced there was something in the bedroom with me at night, and it was not a human. The temperature would drop suddenly, and I would get goosebumps. I shudder now just thinking about it, but that is another story for another time.

Step 3B Health. I did look after my health, and it wasn't that hard.

You can't enjoy any experiences if you get ill.

This was an ongoing active part of my travel plan. I consciously avoided junk food and made a pact with myself to run a 5K everyday regardless, unless of course I was on a ferry or plane. I did this, and many with my daughter through the most beautiful scenery of discovery.

I also travelled with, and used every day the Fitter Stronger pack. I felt good, and my immune system managed to void off everything on the various busses, planes and ferries I came into contact with. My daughter wasn't quite as fortunate, but I manage to fix her by the end.

The Chickens however, always come home to Roost.

I am now back to my old responsible cliched self, in a new home, working from an office, surrounded by stuff. I can feel the peace has slowly leaked away.

I sat down and thought about this. Could I get it back? I am not sure!

We buy a lot of stuff. Everywhere we go, everything is yelling BUY! I am guilty. I have bought stuff since I returned, but I admit with a new lens of do I want or need this? And at what stage will it go to landfill if it cannot be recycled?

To keep stuff we need space, and that space costs, and then we don't want to leave that space because it costs, we obviously have a duty to our kids, they need stuff and space. So essentially, given the opportunity I had, I am nearly back to where I started. In a home with commitments and almost full of stuff.

Just to be clear, I am not unhappy. I am not ungrateful to have a home.

I just found a certain peace, and now it's gone. Peace from new experiences, relaxed conversations, low responsibilities, no expectations, no shops, no deadlines and from rich experiences that were basic, mostly free, simple, and on my terms. No tour guides, schedules or tickets and in places relatively off the beaten track, so think "few people". 

At the end of the day, I get it, one needs to belong somewhere, and you need stuff. You can't be a nomad your whole life, or can you?

I want to find that peace again. Maybe not this year, I have another HSC still to go. But what I am going to do is start:

1. Building a new dream.
2. Keep decluttering. (Trust me on this one)
3. Continue to work my health, shape and fitness.

You can find peace, just not always where you think it lives.

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Jem Bolt is the Chief Bull at Old Bull Health. You can find him on Instagram as @jem.bolt and see some of the pics and more from this post.