All I really want is some patience,
A way to calm this angry voice…

And what I wouldn’t give to find a soulmate,
Some one else to catch this drift…

And all I really want is some comfort,
A way to get my head on tight…

- Alanis Morisette

When I think about what I want out of my life, a conversation with my mom comes to mind. It was quite a while ago, but from what I recall we were sitting outside talking about how she felt when she first noticed the anti-anxiety medication was working. She was sitting on the porch, looking out at the flowers and grass and field, and it was as if everything she was seeing was in vibrant colour, whereas before it was in faded hues.

I couldn’t help but relate to the feeling as someone who has struggled to see the world with vibrancy through often tear-filled eyes and an anxiously beating heart. Often, when I am feeling at my best – when I am happy with myself, feeling accomplished, feeling calm and relaxed and content – I think about the metaphorical vibrancy of my current state and try to hold on to the feeling for as long as possible.

The more and more I learn and explore, the more I find that I can control my state of mind by doing simple things. For example, I’ve been going on ‘consciousness quests’ as I call them, whenever I feel anxiety coming on. Removing myself from my overactive mind, I look, see, smell, feel and observe in all aspects my surroundings and then try to narrate it either in my mind or on scraps of paper as if I am writing a descriptive letter or a poetic prose.

I’ve been finding that, in these moments, using all of my senses and focusing my attention on the present, it really tends to stick in my memory more than any other time. With so much happening in my life everyday, these simple moments bring me back to the present and focus my intent on allowing my energy to openly flow in the directions it’s meant to. When I’m calm, content and in control of my state of mind is when I make the best decisions, and when I can more easily feel the direction in which I’m supposed to be going, because, let’s face it, the past nearly two years of travelling has been me following the flow of life rather than calculating my path. I think it’s been a pretty wild ride so far and I’ve learned much of what I set out to learn in the process.

As for what I should do next, I am certainly stumped. I went to the backpackers hostel in town a few days ago to have a drink with some friends of friends. It was a bit of an epiphany moment. A Tiffany Epiphany if you will. I was sitting at the end of a picnic table surrounded by people of all different nationalities – France, Ireland, Belgium, Germany, Australia – talking about what brought each of us here. We all had a general response, ‘pretty much just going with the flow.’ Most of us were between 18 and 26 and had no idea what we wanted to do for work, where we wanted to end up, who we wanted to end up with or what kind of lifestyle we would eventually settle into. Many of the backpackers lived in their cars/vans, didn’t have jobs, had very little cash and were quite content without.

I realized for the first time in my several years of world- and self-exploration that I am no longer content without. I want to follow my passions and to continue the adventure ‘following my flow’ has taken me on, yes, but I also want to succeed and thrive. I want to have money, not for the status that might come with it, but for the freedom and comfortability it affords. I want to work hard, with determination and purpose. I want to push myself to limits I wouldn’t have ever thought possible, with full confidence that I can attain anything. I want to speak with self-assurance, with poise and with conviction, and be heard and seen as a spirited, composed and knowledgeable individual.

I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow, or next year, or in ten years from now and I’m perfectly fine not knowing. In fact, I really don’t want to know. I may occasionally stray from my intended path – my self-assurance may wither sometimes, I may not speak with conviction or strength some days, and I may look through watering eyes at a faded, colourless landscape, not able to control the coloured hue of my mind's eye – but I know that I am well on my way to being the person that I set out to become many years ago. The true me.

And that’s all I really want.