An Impromptu Trip to Byron Bay


At 9.30 on Sunday evening, a thought came to me – “I want to go to Byron Bay.” A thought that had visited me frequently for the past few months. At 9.35pm, the thought had intensified into “I must go to Byron Bay. I need to be in Byron Bay now!” At 9.40pm I found myself looking at flight tickets, and in the next half an hour, I had booked my flight ticket and packed my bag. Voila, I would catch the first flight out to the Gold Coast tomorrow.


I don't know how other writers write, but when I write, I can't be interrupted by others. When I write, I can't deal with mundane daily matters, which includes responding a simple question, albeit briefly.

I mostly write from a stream of consciousness (i.e., I don't use my mind to think or plan too much about what I will write, I just write and generally I'm in a flow (I feel there is a voice that is guiding me). However, once the flow has been interrupted consistently, and when I try to come back to it again, what was originally there seemed to have vanished into thin air. 

I know it will probably come back later at a certain point (if I pray hard enough), but sometimes it may not be in the case, and most importantly, my mood for what I was writing might have already been gone, and this does upset my attached mind a little bit. That is why I am sometimes a bit of a control freak - my phone is always on silent, I don't usually return to missed calls, and try to block as many notifications as possible when I am immersing in my own little world (although I post heaps on facebook, but most of the time I only post then close Facebook immediately). 

However, when you live under the same roof with someone, this could be a bit tricky. And when the someone is your own mother, this could get even trickier. When your own mother tries to interrupt you a few times during your writing, albeit unknowingly and unintentionally,  my mind could become a bit frustrated, and I could almost hear my soul yelling inside - "Hey, I am working here, just leave me alone, would you?" And I might become a bit grumpy afterward, not my best state. 

My mother was for sure innocent, and it would be unfair on my part to blame her as her matter was indeed urgent in her eyes. 
There is also no way I could convey the importance of this "Anais Nin and me" blog entry I was trying to write. First, my mother doesn't know who Anais Nin was, and it would probably be beyond the scope of her mind to comprehend how a dead female diarist/novelist could mean so much to me, to my soul and why I absolutely wanted to write about her, about us at that moment. 

Although I did tell her that I could not be interrupted during my writing, and she knew and promised to try not to disturb me, still when it comes to reality, it is never easy, and again she was certainly unintentional. 

Now you might wonder why do I still live in the same house with my mother at this age, why don't I move out? Well, first of all, it is nothing unusual for Chinese parents to live with their children, in fact, it is expected, even when their children have turned into adults, as long as they are unmarried. Even if they are married, the parents would usually live with the married son and his wife (for the daughter, she would move to her husband's house and live with the husband's family). I grew up in a house where my parents and grandparents all lived together, and mostly I was taken care of by my grandparents as my parents were all too busy working. In our culture, it is expected that adults should always take care of their parents when they grow old, and taking care means living together, our culture emphasizes a strong tightly knit family unit, codependence. 

I do have special upbringing. My parents sent me to Australia when I was fifteen, I came to a foreign country completely alone, so I had experienced a lot of independence at a young age. I lived with a homestay family, lived with my very first boyfriend, then lived by myself for a long time... My mother had only moved to this country a few years ago after my father had passed away. So we had only started living together these few years (and half of the time I was travelling, roaming the world). 

Long story short, I felt it was good to live with my mother, to take care of each other, to rekindle this unfamiliar familiar mother-daughter relationship. However, more recently than ever, I felt I needed more space to create, to write, to expand. A lot of space. 

I've been thinking about building a life that is based in Melbourne half of the time and the rest in Byron Bay. The seed of thought was planted in my mind a few months ago when the idea first visited me. My soul felt delighted at the thought of this idea. Now it just rings even louder in my ear. So after being interrupted again during writing, I abandoned this Anais Nin blog entry (will come back to it sometime), and quickly booked my ticket to Byron Bay and packed my bag, getting on the first flight to Byron Bay, for a change of environment, a breath of fresh air.  

An utterly spontaneous and impromptu trip to Byron Bay, exactly how I like it. The thing is I want to feel alive in every day of my life. I want to experience joy, and be in the flow. Merely existing is not living in my eyes. I want my soul to express herself freely without any interruptions. It might sound selfish to some people, but I know at this moment this is the right thing to do for my soul. There are sources in my soul that want to come out, and when I'm growing the foundation, I need to build an environment that nurtures this artistic, creative seed. I know the best way for me is to live a bohemian lifestyle, to be surrounded by artists, creatives, progressive thinkers and spiritually-minded individuals and communities. 

As much as I like Melbourne, I feel a strong calling to move to Byron Bay, so this is what I will do at the moment, to split my time between Melbourne and Byron Bay. I know I can only hold space for others when I am at best myself. 

My soul smiled as I typed down this words. The unknown always excites my soul. Byron Bay, here I come. 

(As I post the blog tonight,  I've already spent a beautiful day filled with synchronicity in Byron Bay, that probably deserved another blog entry, loving it here :))