Lots of people have asked if it has been worth it coming to Antarctica, its only been 14 weeks so its probably a little bit early to say but I have learnt one thing, the benefit of taking time out.

At home life is a constant rush; from one adventure to the next, one holiday to the next, one restaurant to the next, one job to the next.  So busy that there is no time to simply relax and enjoy the experiences, to savour the journey before looking for the next rush. I am not an abnormality, in fact those people who seem peaceful and relaxed are the abnormal ones.

The urge to achieve in life is strong, conquering fears and being successful. But down here no one really cares about the superficial, there is no money we don’t need to buy anything. I don’t wear make up or dresses, no one has passed out yet from the shock of seeing my freckles. I don’t drive my BMW or Range Rover, we all share a Hagglund and it doesn’t have heated seats, no ones bum has frozen …. yet.  There is no garden only vast natural beauty.  It is relaxing, I can see why monks all dress the same, it is equalizing. Removing the subconscious signs of success or failure makes us equals. We can relax, we don’t need to compete against each other. This leaves space for reflection.

Over the last ten years I have had so many life experiences, I have been so lucky and never given it a second thought.  I’ve just moved on to the next experience and while I thought that I absorbed, learnt and move on, I think I really just moved on.

I’ve witnessed the cycle of birth and death in some many different cultures.  In Aboriginal communities in Arnham land, helping to deliver a baby holding mum’s hand and seeing the relief on their face as the first cry cuts through the air.  I’ve spent evenings sitting in dark under a gum tree surrounded by all encompassing humidity listening to the ceremony sticks clapping, the shuffle of dancing feet in the sand and the haunting singing at funerals of elders.  I’ve laughed so hard I’ve fallen off chairs in restaurants at jokes that I can’t even remember.  I’ve eaten fresh Queensland prawns and crayfish bought straight from the boats in the Torres Strait. I’ve seen teenagers who have had life extinguished in a flash and looked helplessly as families stare disbelievingly when I say there is nothing I can do.  I’ve watched my tiny black dog run so fast on the beach he looks like he is flying with joy.  I’ve sat in the dry oven heat of a desert and watched a full moon rise over the mosque and listened to the prayer call hanging in the air.  I’ve gently wiped a young mans face clean so their loved ones don’t have to see the brain that are coming out his nose.  I’ve held an old mans hand as he rattled his last breath.  I’ve giggled excitedly over pregnancy tests and seen embryo’s when they are just 8 cells and full of potential.  I’ve drunk champagne on the roof of a 30 story building. I’ve driven a convertible Porsche over narrow passes in Scotland. I’ve got lost in street markets.

The list goes on and on, a lot of my memories are a braided mix of work and play, the people my life has intersected with when they are at their most vulnerable.  My memories are tied together in a complex history of emotions that needs time and effort to unpack.  Meghann Foye’s book Meternity talks about the opportunity of stepping back to review life from another angle, in this case using a false pregnancy to get some maternity leave!!!  In my case it was almost as extreme but not as long term, getting gifted the opportunity of spending 10 months in Antarctica examining my toes and being unable to do escape to the next adventure.

Over the last 14 weeks I have gone through lots of photo’s and relived lots of memories and I am thankful for the opportunity to ‘have’ to slow down, to reflect.  I feel like I am gaining a new perspective on life, opportunities and learning to be present.  I don’t feel burnt out anymore and I am starting to feel like I can give back, life is exciting again.