My blog entries have slowed to meanderings and I have fallen by the wayside. Re-reading my old posts, especially some of those on my first blog, made me realise that sometimes in my writing I was almost achieving what I once aspired to, but I am not any more. An old friend’s Facebook posts recently have driven home that she is a better writer than I and indeed a better person with a more interesting and worthwhile story to tell. She should be writing a blog.
I feel I am at a dead end. My life has been one of neophilia and hodophilia, the love of new things and of travelling to new places. I believed, or told myself, each new adventure in a new location was also a way to do something good. Maybe it was. Maybe it was actually just running away from old places. Most of the major moves I have made have been after events I would rather forget.
That raises another disturbing thought. I spend a lot of time remembering things I would rather not, and trying to remember things I cannot. Odd. Mnemophobia is a word that means both the fear of memories of past events and fearing memory loss caused by mental illness such as Alzheimer’s. The irony of the duality in that word, and in my current frame of mind, is not lost on me. I have already written that one of my greatest fears is Alzheimer’s. I have also written, sometimes obliquely, of the memories I wish I did not have. Then I remind myself that I am writing this blog principally for some future me so I might remember.
I watched Hunt for the Wilderpeople on Google Play last night. I really liked the movie. I never read the Barry Crump novel on which it was based, but Taika Waititi made a gun movie from it. Not flawless, but so very very kiwi and so very entertaining. One of few films that can make me laugh out loud, and one of many that can make me weep. What was interesting was that it was not the poignant heart-rending scenes that caused the latter reaction, but two simple things – or perhaps three; Kiwi humour in a kiwi accent, and the New Zealand bush. This made me realise something. I think I may be homesick.
I pondered this for a while and this morning I think I have pretty much come to the conclusion that as soon as I have a few more grand stashed away, I am going home to retire. Maybe next year.
These are four of my favourite New Zealand photos. Each a pleasant memory.