It was during the school holidays in 1992 that I first visited Australia with my family. I remembered being attracted to the leisurely pace of life and marvelled at how big and spacious the streets and malls were. In another visit, the tour included a farmstay and I have since thought that this would be an ideal location for retirement. Despite my affection for Australia, the U.K. was my first choice when it came to deciding the destination for my undergraduate studies. It did not cross my mind at that time to move to or work in Australia because of a theory I have: never live in the place of your dream. The ideal holiday destination is different to the ideal place for working and living. Life in Australia seems a different world compared to the city where I come from. It is literally a dream place, a place that I can only dream of returning to for holidays, where life is temporarily out of reality. In the same vein, I’ve never intended to stay in Hong Kong forever, at least not when I am old, I knew early on that this wouldn’t be a place I’d like to retire in. My mistake is that I haven’t planned for this eventuality in advance.
Am I refuting my own theory now that I am set on living my dream? I admit there is a risk of smashing my dreams if I do end up living in a place of my dream. I am not going to lie to myself that life will be all rosy and that people are all nice and kind down under. However, there is no reason why we can’t live the life we dream of even if that is a life different to the one we were brought up in; on the other hand, I might end up disappointed and disillusioned. Perhaps living in my dream place is not out of reality, it is merely another reality I’ve never thought possible. I have no answer at the moment, what I do know however is that I cannot live in a place that has become my nightmare.
“Maybe I’m a hopeless dreamer, maybe I’ve got it wrong
but I’m going where the grass is green, if you’d like to come along”
Pink Martini, Splendor in the grass