The last month has been full of goodbyes. I said goodbye to the amazing friends I worked with for over six years, my family, and all of the friends near and far who have supported me throughout this decision. It seems strange now that just four days until my flight the reason WHY I'm leaving has become obscured. Six months ago when I was applying to the BEDA program it was all so clear: drinking a beer in a sun drenched plaza, seeing the Mediterranean, bull-fights, sleepless train rides, and the freedom to be anonymous. Now the vision is clouded by the press of goodbyes, as if this whole time I've been walking backwards away from it. A fog rolls in and the logistics of what I'm about to undertake confront me.
So I think I need to take the time to remember the reasons why I'm leaving.
Travelling is not a selfless pursuit. We call attention to our conspicuous absence by our empty chair at Thanksgiving or the presents left wrapped under the Christmas tree. So I can't really use the excuse that my leaving will somehow be better for the people I leave behind. I'm going to miss weddings, birthdays, and births. I might not be there when a friend calls and needs help or to help cheer up my brothers or sister when they have a bad day.
If that's the case then maybe it's the experiences I will have that will be worthwhile to them when I make my way home. Maybe it's the challenge of seeing how adaptable you are when you're stripped of comfort, financial security, and your ability to communicate. Maybe it's the rush of having a few clothes rolled up in a backpack with your passport and no plan that makes travel so alluring. Maybe it's the chance to feel fear, and to overcome it, to start from scratch, learn something new, recapture your youth, meet new people, recommit to your curiosity, fulfill a promise to your twelve year old self that said that no matter how uncomfortable it may be, or scary, a normal 9-5 just isn't going to cut it. Maybe it's all of these things.
These are just the final death throes of the me that thirsts for control of any situation, and the growing pains of a new life abroad.
I leave for Madrid in four days. I'm terrified and exhilarated to start this new chapter of my life and so thankful that I have people in my life that make this a difficult decision.
So I guess I'm leaving so that I can come home again. Ready to share my experiences with the people I care about.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -- Mark Twain
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Breathing Out
Life has been, for the past couple years, the accumulation of things that make me comfortable. I left for school six years ago with a used vacuum cleaner, a mirror, a couple plastic bins that I used as a nightstand, and a blow up mattress that let air out slowly over the course of the night and left my feet sticking up over a pocket of air and my head jammed against the floor. Fast forward six years later and I had a nice apartment that I paid for without the help of my parents, nice furniture, TV, and a car that worked (although with a series of quirks such as no handles on the inside, making crawling out of the driver side window an awkward but necessary means of escape).
I guess I'm bringing this up because the next month for me is all about giving things up. In order for me to leave the country and start this new part of my life I have to give up all of those things I worked for over the past six years. My last month in my apartment I realized the futility of trying to pawn off my stuff to my parents for the year that I'll be away. Plus I needed whatever money I could before I left. So I sold off all of my stuff, bit by bit.
When my couches were gone I dragged in my damp porch chairs to sit on. When my TV was gone I stacked books on my entertainment center. My dvds I gave away to friends and everything else that I couldn't throw in the back of my car I left out at the curb.
My last night in Tallahassee I slept on the floor of my living room in a sleeping bag. The counters were wiped down, the floor mopped and the walls were plastered over. My apartment which was packed with 'things' a month before was empty. I learned something that night. Everything I cared about, the things that were really valuable to me, could fit in the back of my truck.
So now I'm breathing out. Letting go of the things that don't matter so I can make room for the things that do.
I guess I'm bringing this up because the next month for me is all about giving things up. In order for me to leave the country and start this new part of my life I have to give up all of those things I worked for over the past six years. My last month in my apartment I realized the futility of trying to pawn off my stuff to my parents for the year that I'll be away. Plus I needed whatever money I could before I left. So I sold off all of my stuff, bit by bit.
When my couches were gone I dragged in my damp porch chairs to sit on. When my TV was gone I stacked books on my entertainment center. My dvds I gave away to friends and everything else that I couldn't throw in the back of my car I left out at the curb.
My last night in Tallahassee I slept on the floor of my living room in a sleeping bag. The counters were wiped down, the floor mopped and the walls were plastered over. My apartment which was packed with 'things' a month before was empty. I learned something that night. Everything I cared about, the things that were really valuable to me, could fit in the back of my truck.
So now I'm breathing out. Letting go of the things that don't matter so I can make room for the things that do.
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