wandering and wondering

On sandy toes, somewhere on a beach in Bali, my early afternoon stroll along the shoreline comes to a sudden end. A big pile of post-covid-poverty dirt and litter separates me from getting lost any further on this beautiful thursday in may.

The restlessness of life from a suitcase made me not pick up a pen in almost a year. I guess it’s just hard to dance your way through life sitting behind a typewriter.

With still a few hours left to kill before signing in to this weeks final graveyard shift packed with code reviews and online meetings, I have an unexpected urge to stop wandering and write down some of my thoughts and memoirs.

An unmatched sense of peacefulness just came down on me on the Island of Gods. It smells like canang sari incense and has the sound of Galt MacDermot’s ‘66 unsung Coffee Cold, amplified by the healing hypnotic amplitude of water turning white.

How did I end up here and what makes me get to live this extraordinary jet setting life while it seems so far out of reach for most people. “Living the dream, aren’t you.” I think I do, as I wonder gratefully what new friends the day will bring.

Journalling again for more troubled days as this might somehow remind me of how living in a slow paced place by the ocean gives me new perspectives, teaches me to measure success differently and ultimately can lead to a more satisfied mind.

Somewhere down the road I unleashed myself from the old magnolia to manifest a possible heart while wayfaring through a sea of pointless placebo’s. Constantly exploring and reconstructing what’s in between the limitlessness of what I can do and the effortlessness of the few i-have-to’s.

Homecoming to the eagles nest, yet residing in exile for more than I embrace. We hike up the steepest slopes before the crack of dawn while same time, different day, still pouring shots of some like the sun won’t rise no more. A 5am club for everyone.

Will this wild unsettled life suit me forever? Maybe not. Hard to tell but time will. Until a greater passion crosses my path and puts me down, out there in the wilderness is where you can find me. With or without shoes.

Note: Any resemblance to real persons, dead or alive, or other real-life entities, past or present, is absolutely not coincidental. If you recognise yourself in my story or one of it’s many metaphors, you made a lasting impression on my journey.

Metanoia

belgian guy in jeans

Howzit! I’m Mattias, a freelance software engineer working remotely while traveling the world. I wear jeans where normal people don’t and these are some stories from the road.