I watch House Hunters International and I dream about the day that I will move to another country.

I have done this already, of course. I moved to Australia seven years ago; this was the best decision I have ever made for my life, my career, my wellbeing, and my happiness.

Now I want to do it again. I want to live in different countries and write books: Spain, Canada, New Zealand, Greece. I have ideas that span the globe. My inspiration comes from the places I visit, the people I meet, the food I savour, the challenges I experience. 

My inspiration during Covid-19 lockdown is miniscule bordering on microscopic – I have had to search using my inner microscope to find it.

How do I maintain creativity during monotony? How can I create my own inspiration without external stimulus?

My inspiration during Covid-19 lockdown is miniscule bordering on microscopic.

My answer: I don’t know. Five months and 3 days of working-from-home-stuck-in-the-house-lockdown and I have not found my inspiration.

So I dream of future days (that may be long in coming – Australia may not open its borders for international travel until late 2021) when I can once again step foot in a place I have never been, with a language I do not speak and a culture that throws me straight outside my comfort zone. I wait (slightly less patiently every day) and I dream.

In between the dreaming, I do the tasks that do not require inspiration: edit my website, track business expenses, read novels, watch tv – I am consuming much more than I am creating right now. How long can this last? I feel myself slowly slipping away – it is difficult to form positive habits to enable creation when I physically, mentally and emotionally struggle to combat monotony every minute of every day. Sleep is a welcome distraction from the tediousness of life. I sleep a lot.

I like to think of my waiting as practicing patience. I have never in my whole life had to sit so still, in the same location day upon endless day. I am not a tree in the forest; I am a wave traveling the waters of the world. Has anyone ever been able to stop a wave? I haven’t, and I don’t want to.

Because my life is exciting. It is fast, full of constant change and energy, experiences new and fresh – life is for the living, and as my 87 year-old grandmother says, “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

She also says, “The day I slow down, I will die.” Have I slowed down? It feels like it. Even the blood seems to be moving thickly through my veins. But, it’s not slowness in a this-is-relaxing-meditative-healthy-yoga sense. It is slowness in a static sense: I am static in this position, my bum in my chair, at my work desk, with a-computer-in-front-of-my-face-for-eight-hours-a-day slow. Because in that static bum position, my mind is far from slow. I am sending this email, engaging in that meeting, planning this session, following up on that issue…I am anything but slow.

This is the life I have struggled to fight against for the past decade: complacency.

I did not realise that so much of who I am and what I love about life relies on the physical location of my body: isolate me in a house for days on end and I lose my enthusiasm; allow me to travel the world and I fly like the wedge tail eagle.

This is the life I have struggled to fight against for the past decade: complacency.

Two years ago (before I met my current partner), I was speaking with my therapist about this issue: I have spent my life ping-ponging back and forth between two people – the consistent job, career and relationship focused Whitney, and the free spirited, homeless, travel-the-world Whitney. I have never been able to bring these two very different Whitneys into one life; they have always lived separately, at odds, in their own individual right.

Living that life was exhilarating. I was always bouncing from one extreme to the other: finding a job, entering a relationship, then quitting, breaking up and traveling to a different country or another state. And then, repeat. Job, relationship, quitting, breaking up, traveling. Repeat.

“I do not want to live a ping-pong life,” I lamented to my therapist. “I want to enjoy both sides of me in one life. How do I do that?” I was desperate. Four broken relationships and I was ready to call it quits.

My therapist was kind, but direct. “You have to bring both parts of yourself together, with each part becoming more like the other. For example, consistent-Whitney needs to find adventure in the day-to-day of life. Go to a new cafe, cook a new recipe, explore a new part of Melbourne. Adventure can be small, but still an adventure. And adventure-Whitney needs to find more consistency. Travel with your partner and plan shorter, more regular trips. Integrate your career and relationship into the adventure. Find opportunities within your career to go on adventures, whether that is through professional learning, working relationships, or traveling.”

He ended the session by saying the most significant piece of feedback that has since shifted how I view my entire relationship: “And never forget: your relationship is the greatest adventure of them all.”

“And never forget: your relationship is the greatest adventure of them all.”

My wise therapist

And so, while consistent-Whitney is in full force and is struggling to find any sense of adventure (going to a new cafe isn’t possible when all cafes are closed) and adventure-Whitney is waiting (im)patiently, both Whitneys dream of the day when lockdown is a memory and life becomes inspiring once again.