I just needed to get above the clouds

Floating at 37,500ft, admiring snow capped mountains below, rediscovering Sigur Ros on the free inflight entertainment and enjoying a healthy sized gin; it was surprisingly easy to let go of what I was leaving behind. Moments ago the plane had rumbled it’s way down the airstrip, battling torrential rain and thick grey cloud, rocking from side-to-side and struggling to become airborne. It had climbed and climbed through layer upon layer of cloud, dragging and pulling, fighting to find the sweet spot when gravity feels irrelevant and weightlessness takes over. I used to fear that moment when the engines hush slightly and for a split-second you feel you may fall out of the sky, but this time a feeling of warmth and bliss cocooned me. Perhaps it was the magic in the perfect blue sky melting into the horizon, that blue, that crystalline blue that can only been seen from up here; a beautiful contrast to the heavy downpour that had drenched my final morning in Wellington. Or perhaps it was the gin.

Travelling 500 miles an hour in perfect slow motion, skimming milky-white whispy clouds, I indulged myself in the serenity of it all. Life a mile below was the exact opposite of this. Life was hectic and heavy, tiring and trying. Life was a downpour in Wellington and I was drenched through.

Choosing to leave felt like the hardest way to give-in because there was a lot I would have liked to have made work. Yet again I resigned from a good job and I waved goodbye to friendships that had only just begun. I also bid farewell to a country I was yet to explore (I now consider this to be unfinished business). Wellington is also home to my favourite coffee – that’s a lot to give up! However, a physical shift is a fantastic support to an emotional one. And I know there are better things waiting for me at the other side of the world so that’s where I’m going. I left the UK all of that time ago for the very same reasons, I knew there were better things for me 18,000km away, now the roles have reversed for a while.

As I sipped the last of the gin and the flight attendant kindly brought me a pillow (I was obviously looking sleepy, or drunk), I smiled. I smiled because I knew I had made the right decision in leaving the downpour behind and heading home.

And remember – when the weather is shit, you just need to get above the clouds. It’s beautiful up here.

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