28 April 2006

Taking Time Out ...

I've finally told my major customer and my colleagues elsewhere in the region about my resignation. I'm happy to say that they've all wished me well and while surprised, expressed support for my move. I'm glad to hear that. I've heard some stories where people get scolded for leaving, and some where people are trying hard to convince them not to leave.

I can see it in 2 ways - either I'm easily replaceable and would not be sorely missed. Or I'm a friend, not merely a colleague, and like all friends are, I get good wishes. Maybe it's a bit of both.

And I've decided to go it alone to Perhentian. If my cousin or mum decides to join up, they're in. Else, it's Moz hitting the road solo.

Most of my travels are ones I do by myself. There's no pressure to visit places I don't want to. There's no hurry if I like and overstay somewhere. There's no obligation to make anyone but myself happy. But most of all, I need to make peace with myself.

In a visit to New Zealand many years ago, I discovered the joy of being with myself. At the end of a quiet bike trail on the South Island, looking out at endless mountains on one side and the open ocean on another, I was all alone. In this sort of setting, you would have thought that it was supposed to be all quiet - just you and the natural elements.

Well, not for me. I realised now noisy my brain was - there was unending chatter in there. While there really is no noise except for the distant waves crashing the rocky shore and the strong coastal winds, inside my head, I can't stop talking to myself. It might as well have been a packed train station in downtown Bangkok.

There - I discovered the meaning of alone time - and the need to make peace with myself. In the breathtaking setting in New Zealand, all alone in the middle of nowhere, I settled some pressing issues I had then. I made up my mind, I consulted with myself. I made up with my conscience for some of my situations, and I moved on.

It was the start of many holidays alone, all in search of that one moment of clarity when everything makes sense. When I can speak to myself alone and be satisfied with my own decisions. When I can make peace with my inner self. I didn't stay very long at that spot in New Zealand, maybe 30 minutes. Maybe 1 hour. But it was the best time of myself, and all I did was sit and gaze out at the scenery while my mind synced up with my inner self.

I have at most another 2 weeks here in this current job.

Work's going to crescendo slowly to a big bang at the end of my stay in this job. I just heard another stack of paper and forms landing in my Inbox. Ouch, there's another memo I need to write and pass on to the team. And it's only 30 minutes past midnight. The night is still young.

Mix with that a few big activities around the corner and also an increasingly unreasonable boss (strange, he was perfectly reasonable before I handed in the letter), I don't think blogging around this time will be wise. I have to also handover all my work to someone (don't know who yet), since there's an ongoing project I'm handling.

I'm reducing my blogging activity for the time being, considering that my workload will most likely make me buckle over and die young. And you thought that people who don't smoke live longer, don't you? Not true. I don't smoke, but the job can kill too, if you're not careful. I'm so looking forward to starting anew at my next destination.

Maybe when someone makes me mad, or something important happens (like when they finally give in to overwhelming public response and approve the Rebat Kekecewaan Streamyx), I'll blog something. Otherwise, knock yourself out with the past entries. I particularly liked my own writings on Chinese New Year and Valentine's Day. Do leave me comments or drop me emails. I'll reply when time permits.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dude, you gotta go holiday with your friends. What's the point of doin' it alone?

moz monster said...

anonymous: I go with Friend A, Friend B merajuk. I go with Friend B, Friends A and C merajuk. So I ffk them all loh.