Transience
reflecting on my trip to New Zealand
I
I took a trip to New Zealand.
This trip had been in the works for a long time. The idea began taking shape as I grappled with my decision to quit my job. I was also struggling with personal setbacks, including a physical injury that made me feel trapped in my own body. I needed a break – to get a change of scenery, and to give myself the space to stretch my body and to let my mind roam free.
New Zealand had always been a dream vacation, and when my mother suggested a camper van trip, the idea took hold. The plan was simple: we start in the north at Auckland, and then make our way south to Christchurch over two weeks.
Never staying in one place for more than a night. This journey of moving from one place to the next mirrored my own life – a life in transition, in search of new grounding.
II
In those two weeks, we drove through the vast landscapes of New Zealand. Each sight was more spectacular than the last.
From the windshield, I marveled at the mountains standing strong in the distance. On the hilly terrains, I saw farm animals grazing on grass. I saw some cows frolicked across the fields – how eager I was to step out of the van and join them. The rivers, flowing downstream with a gentle roar. On the coasts of Southern New Zealand, the ocean stretched into the horizon to meet the sky in perfect symmetry.
It felt like being in a movie. I understood why New Zealand was chosen as the filming location for fantasy epics, such as the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The landscape seemed made for the cinematic experience.
As we navigated the winding roads that cut across mountains, I couldn't help but think about the engineering effort behind them. The logistics and sheer effort required to build these roads must have been immense. Humanity has long worked with Nature and struggled against it too. It is a delicate balance to meet our human needs while preserving the beauty around us.
Those winding roads were challenging, especially in the first few days. Driving in a new country, where the rules and culture were unfamiliar was daunting – I was cautious on these roads. Often, I had to pull over to let other drivers overtake me, especially when large trucks hauling trailers come up on the rear-view mirror.
But over time, driving became just that bit more comfortable; the drive became part of the journey. I learned to appreciate the joy of being on the road, the joy of being in process, without fixating on the destination.
III
New Zealand wasn’t always like this – it is the result of millions of years of geological activity. The islands may have splintered off from Australia, and their parting created the Tasman Sea.
Mountains were formed by the collision of landmasses, folding over each other to form superstructures. The terrain was shaped by the flow of water and wind, slowly eroding the rocky surface. Ancient volcanic eruptions fertilized the soil, paving the way for forests to grow – blanketing the landscape in green.
While the landscape may seem eternal, this grandeur is but an illusion. It is only a snapshot in Earth’s long history. Nature is transient, constantly evolving. Impermanence is constant. The forces that created this landscape are still at work, with the added pressure of pollution and climate change, this process of transformation is accelerating.
Who knows what the world will look like in a million years?
IV
One night, we camped by the coast. Far from the quaint towns and sleepy suburbs of New Zealand. I looked up into the night sky, and there they were – the stars!
Those stars, millions of light years away, are often obscured by light pollution from streetlamps and the glow of cities. Here, in this unblemished sky, I can see them for all their glory. If I squint hard enough, I could make out the faint trail of the Milky Way.
It was as if the universe had unveiled itself before me, majestic and humbling. Earth seemed no more than a speck of dust against this cosmic backdrop. Everything else pales in comparison. My own problems suddenly felt trivial.
Earth seemed no more than a speck of dust against this cosmic backdrop. Everything else pales in comparison. Everything else became insignificant. All my troubles suddenly felt trivial.
This very moment, standing under the stars, was shaped by an infinite number of cosmic collisions over billions of years. All of it led to this – me, here, now – the present. A gift from the universe.
"If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I'll bet they'd live a lot differently.”
“How so?”
“When you look into infinity, you realize that there are more important things than what people do all day."- Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
V
Reflecting on my own life, I realize that everything I’ve done, all of my triumphs and torment, are fleeting. All that I am may not last. Time will change me. But perhaps, I too can shape that change.
There’s still opportunities out there — a whole universe of possibilities in fact — if I’m willing to reach for them.