Nannup, Busselton— wherever you go, there you are.

Years ago I was part of a recovery community for a time. There I learned a phrase, wherever you go, there you are. In the community I was a part of, this was always used to explain the idea that you can’t run away from yourself. Changing geographical locations would only do just that. Inner conditions would remain.

How much is this so? How much is it not so?

We are currently traveling with a newly two-year-old and a just turned three-week-old. The former is learning to deal with having a sister, and not being the only child. He’s dealing pretty well, but he has a lot of emotion to work through. The latter is a beautiful smooshy newborn. But she has had colic and nappy rash all week. Most nights I have only slept one or two hours, spread out over the night. And we also have a one-year-old dog with us, for good measure.

I mention these as they are the Given Circumstances of now. Wherever you go, there you are.

When I mentioned to people that we were coming away for this trip, a lot of people thought we were nuts. At the moment though, this is the only window of opportunity we have to go away for some months, due to work. Travelling feeds my soul, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

So here we are. In every sense.

Most days I have spent time thinking I am nuts. It would be so much easier to deal with colicky new baby, adjusting toddler and adolescent dog at home. But would it? Does routine make things easier to deal with? Or does it just make you deal with the things, with routine? Right now we are juggling getting in and out of the car numerous times a day, tandem feeding in cars and cafes, all sleeping in a tiny garden studio, or not sleeping when one of us is crying through the night; but at the same time we are exploring rivers and forests and jetties and trains, making toys out of gumnuts and skipping stones on the water and sampling coffee and pies in country bakeries. Or, we could be dealing with the same difficulties, at home. That’s it.

Wherever you go, there you are.

Being on this trip, I realise that ever since being in that recovery community, I have used that phrase to myself to convince myself that it would be easier to stay put, better to deal with all my crap before going. And then I put off going, because dealing with all the crap is a process that goes on. Traveling here, now, now and here, I realise that the phrase goes both ways. Wherever I go, here I am. Now and here. If I’m going to have to deal with the same stuff in either place, why not have an adventure while doing it?

There are so many ‘wise’ sayings that I’ve learned a meaning to in my life, that I now find it wise to unlearn.

So today, there was an hour and a half when I needed to look after my baby and the dog while my partner and the toddler went to do something else. It was super hot, I am super pale. There was no shade. The best option was to park the car in the semi-shade, open all the windows, and sit in there.

We did so. It became cool relatively quickly. The other two beings with me fell asleep, and I had the opportunity to read. This was wonderful. Pretty soon though, my baby woke, and wouldn’t stay asleep unless I held her.

I went back into the mood of thinking, “this would be easier at home.” At home I wouldn’t be stuck in a warm car, unable to move my arm, with a dog.

Remembering this publication, I decided to find something creative I could do, in the car, with only one hand and unable to move my body much. I decided to play with light and shadow.

And angles…

And then the day seemed lighter.

That’s all. It wasn’t anything massive or profound. But life-changing in a small, momentary way. In that time, now and here. Wherever you go, there you are.

Might as well play while you’re there.

Cara Phillips is a MIECAT trained experiential creative arts therapist, providing an opportunity for people to inquire into, and make meaning of things of value in their lives. She is currently completing a Professional Doctorate, researching the therapeutic experience of creating a theatrical production.