Jorge said the craziest thing to me: we do our weekly budgets every Thursday, and he announced that this was our 45th week on the road! What, already? This comment has been on my mind all week, and I am trying to figure out my feelings. Does this mean we go back to 'normal life'? Or has it been 45 weeks, and the life we have been living has become 'what we do'? And so, with a lump in my throat, have I lost the sparkle of what we are doing? Have I stopped seeing the extraordinary, and this trip has, in fact, become ordinary?
I was listening to a recent podcast in which a neuroscience professor talked about her study into habituation—how we as humans become used to the world around us (our world becomes a habit). Although to someone else, your world might look inspiring, exciting, and incredible, you, the person in it, have gotten used to it, formed the habit of this lifestyle, and are simply living it.
In our 45 weeks on the road, I have noticed that perhaps the 'newness' of travelling, discovering things, and living in a caravan has become less sparkly. When we catch up with friends on video calls, meet new people, or chat with other travellers, that's when we remember how incredible this experience is.
So why do we lose our sparkle in life? What is happening? And, more importantly, how do I stop it from creeping in?
Our brain is hardwired to always be prepared to learn something new. It does this to ensure we are able to take in anything unexpected and understand it quickly. Once it is used to it, it files it away, making sure there is always space for the next new thing.
Think about it this way: the first taste of a gelato, a sip of wine, or your first few bites of a delicious dinner out. They are always the best, and then you get used to them, and they don't zing in your mouth as much.
When we did the big drive between the NT and QLD border, there were long open roads, a few roadhouses, and BIG road trains. Before coming into QLD, our last roadhouse was called Barkly Homestead, known as the NT's first and last pub. With so much vastness around us, we realised we got excited when we saw a flat piece of land with a bit of grass for the caravan. We were even more excited if the toilet had no friendly frog or spider. The small pleasures seemed to keep us sparkling.
I remember walking into the homestead, "Wow, this place is posh!" I felt a spark; this place was epic. While enjoying a glass of wine at their outside bush bar, Jorge told me I had to go and see the toilet. Our sparkle in the little things was high throughout that road trip. So I went, and OH MY GOODNESS, it was beautiful. The solid taps, mirrors, and special lighting were just too much! It was so special I had to take a photo! Seeing a glistening toilet and proper wash basin was spectacular. I remember I wouldn't have noticed them a year ago. I walked out sparkling!
When we hit Port Douglas and saw the lush tropical trees and forests, I was in heaven. It was so different from the vast red earth we had been travelling through. I was in awe just sitting, looking at the glorious mountains around us. But I have noticed, now almost a month into exploring QLD, that the scenery, although beautiful, doesn't sparkle as much. Finding a grocery store is not as thrilling. Why? What has happened?
I realise, firstly, that this is a State I have been in before. Similar to NSW, most things are accessible to us, and there are so many options here; everything is really at your fingertips. Being around it now for a few weeks, I have filed away the wonderfulness of this place—I have, in fact, become used to it.
How sad. When you think of it, I am on this trip around beautiful places I have never seen, and I am already getting used to it. Used to the tropical oasis in front of me! Am I part of the generation of "What's the next best thing?" Have we forgotten how to be in the moment and see the beauty in the small things, to love the simplicity around us and let it light up the spark inside?
Feeling this way, I planned to visit the Sunday Market here in Bowen. I was very excited about the new and shining things we would see at the market, but although it was good, it didn't light me up. While driving back to the campsite, we saw a sign for the Flagstaff Hill Lookout and decided to go see it last minute; this was, in fact, my sparkle moment. The views, the ocean, the islands, and our little walk were breathtaking. And then it hit me; I realised my happiness is not embedded in the stuff we get or have around us but firmly in life's experiences and simplicity. Although I have said this many times, I finally understand it.
It's easy to get into a habit of the life around us, the ease at which we can live. Now, with more digital accessibility and everything at our fingertips, we believe that to find happiness, we 'need' something or must do something big and grand. But the reality is that the simplest of choices can light us up. The magic of life lies in our ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary and to find joy in the small, simple moments that often go unnoticed.
Albert Einstein once said, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."