Bravery & the emerald city

I feel like people tell me all the time that they think I'm brave.

I don't actually know if this is true.
Sometimes I definitely feel like a total wuss in disguise or something.
I think I'm just stubborn and when I think I'm right about something... I pretty much insist that I KNOW I'm right!
So when I get a gut reaction or an impulse, I become instantly beyond certain that it must be.
I am definitely spontaneous and impulsive.
But brave?
Maybe.

I get scared.

If you've ever been surfing with me, you've seen it. I laugh and paddle back to the boat insisting that I take pictures or that I am tired or something.
In reality- riddled to the bone with irrational fear that is shaking me to the core.
If you've ever flown on a plane with me and we hit gnarly turbulence, you might have just noticed me talking extra fast and holding my rose quartz travel amulet a little tighter... But trust me... There are butterflies tossling around with the turbulent plane.
...When I am showing up for a date or a romantic meeting, it might look like I'm cool, calm and composed, but in reality I am so far lost in a daydream world of what if's and hypotheticals I am basically detatched from reality- but that's just the way I deal with nerves I guess.
Chit chatter away, distracting my friends from their fear and appeasing my own.
But for some reason when I'm in fear, it seems to come off to others as bravery.

Bravery to me is something bold, strong, no conditions, no second thoughts... It's my father.

When my dad says something is so, you just don't argue... Not just because he's huge and loud and intimidating (unless you're his doting daughter and know the secret inside scoop that he's a Teddy bear/gay hairdresser named Renee disguised as an enormous opera singing giant)....

You don't argue with big daddy because he's right... Like... Always.

It's actually slightly annoying.
Always.

And when he leads the way, you don't question... You just follow.
And he literally always gets you where you're going.
In a car, in a conversation, in a crisis... He is the ultimate guide AND he spent his life standing on stage in front of thousands and thousands of people singing and sharing his soul to strangers.
He is the epitome of bravery to me.

Me?
I'm just little and defiant and try to stand tall and take big steps like my daddy... I walk with conviction... I lead the way even when I have no idea where I'm going and when me and the trail of lost souls following in my wake hit the dead end I just shrug and admit I have no clue where I am or why anyone followed me in the first place.

People always remember me as much taller then I am.
I just learned to hold myself like a tall person coming from a family of amazons.

But bravery....
Bravery is courage... And sometimes I feel like i am merely the cowardly lioness from wizard of Oz... I know I have the courage and bravery everyone sees within me and comments on somewhere deep (or perhaps not so deep at all) inside of me... But I gotta get to the emerald city to see it for myself I guess.

Once I see my reflection in that cosmic mirror and hear it from The wizard behind the curtain... Then I will believe that all this jet setting, cruising Asia alone and going on crazy adventures for a year is actually sprung out of bravery and not just impulsive Aries energy and craziness.

So where is the wizard?
So where is my emerald city?

I have visited the gorgeous emerald green rolling hills up and down the west coast of America... From washington state to big sur and lake tahoe... The highlands and malibu canyons... I've swum through emerald green seaweed floating in the Cyprus sea.. The turquoise waters that glisten like tiny emerald chips in Indonesia and Thailand.... Mexico and Greece.... Italy, France, Belgium, Scotland, Spain, Singapore, Wales, Japan... England and Holland... everywhere shone like emeralds in one way or another...

But I haven't found my emerald city...
The place that holds the wizards message and makes me see how brave I am...
Recognizing my strength and standing in my true power... Knowing that I am my father's daughter.
This place I have not found yet.

This morning I sat by the pool on the roof of the Dang Derm hotel in Bangkok with two girls who had just returned from India... We talked at length while lying in the spotty sun that peeked through heavy grey monsoon rain clouds.  I felt my words spill out faster, my skin get hotter... I was excited and enthralled... Writing down suggestions... Picking their brains.
They saw bravery and a solo woman with an insatiable spiritual appetite ready to take on everything and anything...
I think it was all masking my fear.
I haven't booked anything yet in India... Not even my visa.
Partly because I am my mother's daughter- a believer... A truster... A flower.... A dancer... I want my India experience to unfold like the thousand petalled lotus on the crown of my head.
And also because I am I'm ex-husband's ex-wife.
Because I'm divorced.
And Because I'm scared.
I'm scared of commitment.
I'm scared of saying yes I'll jump before I'm on the ledge.
I'm the girl who can't say no... So yes of course I'll go. I'll jump before you even have to ask... But to commit ahead of time makes my palms sweat.

I guess that's why all my flights  are 10 times more expensive then they should be.
They are all booked absolutely last minute.

Once I'm on the plane I shake my head and smack my thigh and scream inside my head "duhhhhh! Zani. You were always going to be here. Why didn't you just plan ahead and trust a little more."

I think maybe because I haven't found my emerald city.

But whoa- just realized... I won't find it without a flight to get there.

I gotta GO FIND my emerald city. 

Bam.

Gotta go book some flights.

More on this later...

----

After writing this I flew from Bangkok to Malaysia.
I sat beside a Malaysian car salesman and landed in KL at 11pm... Bought myself a chamomile tea at starbucks and found a cozy seat to rest in for the next four hours. Thanks to free wi-fi, my i-thing and modern miracles that interconnect all my friends and i around the world at all hours... I chatted with Aussie mike who was in london and various friends on their way to burning man... Colin and josh on their way to Kansas, my sister setting to move from Boston to michigan to work for steel mine reform or something amazing like that.
Around 4:30 am I jolted awake realizing i'd dozed off for a few minutes and jumped up looking for Cary and Laura-sure they'd gone to find a bathroom.
It took me a solid five minutes to realize I was alone and half asleep in a Starbucks in Malaysia.
I staggered into the departures terminal and checked into my flight to Padang which would be taking off at 7:50am.
I wandered through the duty free stalls and stores that were open and found a seat with a bottle of water and earbuds playing me the sweet sounds of the notorious xx (a mash up of the xx and biggie)... Real good.

I got tapped on the shoulder by the two Muslim girls sitting to my right outside gate T15.
They signaled me to take out my earphones and talk to them.
They asked my name in broken English and where I was from.
They told me their names and I realized they were Indonesian so I started speaking indo to them which they loved. It actually didn't take me long at all to kick back into gear with the language.
We chatted for about a half hour- their eyes lit up- two sisters full of love and energy.
Then they asked if my parents were still alive. I said yes and told them a little about my mom and dad. 
(my eyes I'm sure lighting up too... I love to talk about my family if you hadn't noticed)
Then they both swallowed a little harder and told me that their father died last night.
That's why they were flying home to Medan.
He was sitting in his chair after dinner and his head just tilted back and he was gone.
Never sick.
His spirit just decided it was time to fly the coop.
My first thought was how brave these girls were.
So strong and stable knowing they were flying home to find the shell their father once lived in.
To them it was just part of life.
I yawned and apologized.
They asked me where I slept and I laughed. I told them I closed my eyes at starbucks.
They excitedly insisted I come to Their house next time I was in KL (which will be soon and often)
They drew me a map- gave me both their phone numbers and said I never have to pay for a hotel in KL ever. Not even a taxi. They told me the city bus that goes right to their house.
I honestly think I will go stay with them next time I come to KL.
Beautiful brave goddess girls who are now without a father... But you can tell their father loved them and raised them well while he was alive.
Rest in peace father of Wanie & Sue...

Next stop for zani.... Padang and some SLEEP!

Next mission: find the emerald city and my badge of bravery