This one time I was on a project in South Africa for work. Everyone from our project went to the lion’s reserve one afternoon, to pet the lions. But I decided to play golf with some locals. It didn’t take long for the men I played with to recognize I was pretty good ‘for a woman’. But the ladies’ tee box makes the fairway a lot shorter one noticed. So he said I had to tee off from the men’s tee box as well. ‘That’s unfair I answered, I’m a lady, I can tee off from the ladies’ box, that’s the rules’. Well he replied: ‘If you wanna piss with the big dogs, you gotta lift your leg a little higher’. And so I did, on the next hole I teed off from the men’s box and played like a big dog.
“Your dreams have come true and you have a sense of magic, what if you dream up something else, can you have that too?” – William the Psychic, Portland (OR) – 2017
I will turn 42 at the end of the summer and for the past quarter century I have been running towards my dreams. Running towards places, chasing jobs, chasing guys. I had a good time. But life begins at forty they say, so what will I do with the rest of my life?
To be honest, I had a great childhood. I grew up in a small town in rural Holland, with two parents and a younger brother. All I can remember is birthday parties, playing outside and summer holidays to Southern Europe.
As a resut of this upbringing I got myself a university degree, moved to Amsterdam with my college sweetheart and landed a job at my dream company Nike. So far so good right?
Until life hit me in the face with a brick. What happened? Well, it wasn’t so much one thing, it was more like a series of events. My relationship had ended after eight years, which was pretty much like a divorce. My parents were evicted from their house, which put a lot of pressure on me. And I dove had first in a rebound relationship that didn’t end well. So there I was, staring at the ceiling night after night, until the dilusions started. And that is how I spend my thirty first birthday in a mental hospital.
After three weeks they sent me home with a bag of pills and a shrink’s phone number and that was it. I went back to work and continued on with my life, like nothing had happened. I even moved to the US for work. Imagine, a small town girl from Holland at Nike’s World Head Quarters! My dreams had come true and I had a sense of magic, what if I dreamed up something else, could I have that too?
By the time I got back from the US at age thrity five, I thought it was time to settle down. All my old friends from university had moved on with their lives, bought houses, got married, or were even raising families. And really, for the next five years or so I did my best to get to the same place. Took on a couple of jobs, but quit, because they didn’t feel right. Had a few flings, that never lasted. And moved around a lot, because I did’t have a place of my own. Of course Covid hit, which didn’t help either and by forty I moved back in with my parents, because I seriously messed up.
Even though I didn’t see it last summer, I was given a second chance. A chance to start over in life. A clean slate, so to speak. With everything stripped away, I could start building from ground zero again.
Over the past year I have moved out of my parent’s place, at least I have a roof over my head now. When it comes to love I have learned that I have to stop trying so hard and let people come to me. And as for a job, it’s just a job, it’s not my life, nor my identity.
So, this time, in stead of trying so hard, I’m gonna create space for coincidence, or ‘Surf Life’ as a I call it, and just see what happens.
I think I’m happy. Which in itself is a weird thought, because happiness should be a gut feeling.
In the staircase in our house is a sign that says: ‘Happiness is not a destination, it’s a way of life’. And that’s how it is. I always thought: I need a house, a man and a job to be happy. But today I did volunteerwork, had a date without strings attached and came home to a group home. Not the way I imagined things to be by now, but day to day I am happy. Because I serve with purpose, I love in whatever shape or form it comes and I have a roof over my head. What more do you want?
I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know it’s not some place you can look for, ’cause it’s not where you go. It’s how you feel for a moment in your life when you’re a part of something, and if you find that moment… it lasts forever…
After I returned from the US I felt like a failure. There was just a big hole in my life where work used to be. I remember watching a movie in the middle of the day thinking: ‘I should be at work’. Memories of hotel rooms in Shanghai and sky bars in Las Vegas. ‘Customer Experience Associate Manager’? I thought I was just explaining to people how to use their iPad.
I was lonely during those beautiful summer nights, wanting to go to the beach, but no one to go with. I tried to fill the void by hanging out with strangers, realizing even more how hollow and empty my life was. My friends used to be my family, but were they really my friends? These new people I met seemed to like me for who I was, not for the education I had, the company I worked for, or the club I was a member of.
What I wanted was love. But no one impressed, entertained or interested me. Many guys showed me their interest over the past few years, but none of them seemed to be up to par. I don’t care about what you look like, or what car you drive. But I need a man that is spiritually and emotionally my equal. I know that’s a lot to ask, but I am willing to wait.
Every day I write in my diary and at the end of every month I save it somewhere, for me to read later on in time. So, every once in a while, I look back at the same day or month a few years back and it’s funny to see how my life evolved over the years. How I flow with the current of the cosmos.
Five years ago I lived with my old friend from University. But I wrote ‘I feel like a homeless person’, because I didn’t feel at home in her house and was wondering the streets looking for something to do. Longing for a place of my own.
In 2020 we were in the middle of the Covid lock down. I talk about solitary confinement and how being locked up felt like a prison sentence. I looked back on my life, thinking all I had left was memories. No sign of hope for the future.
Three years ago I had met ‘the group’, the house parties left me broke and exhausted, but I had nothing better to do, since I was unemployed. I read about how I was wondering who my friends truly were. People come and go, story of my life. Especially when you have moved around as much as I had.
We fast forward one year, it’s March 2022. I started looking towards the future. How I would graduate from Howie the Harp. And still wanted to write down my story. But on the other hand, I started to believe I was meant to live a stray life, sleeping on strangers’ couches. This was the beginning of the end I think, looking backwards.
And finally, last year. I read about how confused I was. Wondering about God’s bigger plan for me. Deep down inside I knew what my dreams were, but I just didn’t know how to get there. ‘I’m feeling depressed’, I wrote.
And now look at where I am. I have moved away from the chaos. And there is hope for the future. I still need some closure from the past. But I am determined to keep chasing my dreams and keep surfing life. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what the future holds, but I am hopeful. And some days, just for small moments in time, I can even say I’m happy. Well, how about that.
Who says there’s just one way to live? Earn a living, raise a family and live happily ever after, right? But what if you face a break-up, you’re in a dead-end job and you lose the roof over your head? What’s left? Or will you finally have the time and space to find out who you truly are?
If you would’ve asked me twelve years ago who I was, I would have answered: I’m 29 and I work for a large corporate. I live in Amsterdam with my boyfriend. In my free time I love sports and socializing with my friends. Oh, and I have been to fifty countries.
But I learned I’m not my job, nor my relationship. Losing everything was a hard, but effective way to let go of who I was and become who I might be.
Recently I went on a retreat at the Recovery College and some of the younger girls there reminded me of myself a decade ago. Not ready to give up the job I had worked so hard for all my life. Or not able to get over a relationship I grew up in. After eight years in a relationship, I didn’t know who I was anymore. Our lives were so intertwined. And after eight years at a large corporate I found it so hard to let go, I walked into my senior director’s office crying, saying I just didn’t want to do the job anymore. And she said: “It’s just a job”. But even though she was right, it didn’t feel like just a job at the time, it was my life. At least I thought it was.
After this tremendous loss, I mourned and grieved and misbehaved, to a point where the whole wall came falling down. But maybe it was necessary to face some truths about myself:
I now realize that all my (adult) life, I have been running. I thought I was running towards something; my dreams, a country, a company. But I have been running away; away from relationships and away from places that reminded me of those relationships. It’s time to stop running. It’s time to slow down and grow some roots. Running away from something is exhausting, especially when you have been doing it for over twenty years. And I am tired now. Every time something didn’t work out (the relationship, the job, or just life in general), I would leave and start over somewhere else.
But: “You can go the whole world over, every city has its dawn, but everybody living has one place where he was born”.
This is my life. Not tomorrow, not in five or ten years from now, all I have is today. And today was a fine Saturday.
The Surf of Life 