The Big Come Back
The person who started writing this a few years back is not the same, nor completely different from the one writing these lines. Imagine climbing into a time capsule and climbing out 3 years later. From anyone else’s perspective this is what’s happened. For me it has been another life.
Moving around for this long, feeling that I always have a hard limit – the day my visa expires in that country – “enforced” the cycles I lived by. Three months can be long but I could not get myself too comfortable. I knew I have to move in the foreseeable future. It can be exhausting on the long run, I craved for staying put for a while, without the constraint of having to move. Enough wandering for now, back I came, it was time.
The streets look familiar, no need for maps, some new buildings, little changes, taking buses, trams, observing. Walk around, notice new details: “were they here before, just never noticed?”. A smell hits me, one that I did not feel for many years, is this only here?
Moving back started with a big cleanup. Getting rid of even more stuff than I thought possible before – little overdoing Mari Kondo. I thought I was thorough when I left – but I had to realize I was still holding onto meaningless stuff. Or maybe meanings shift with perspective. Either way…
In a room, starting from scratch, cherry picking the things I thought I was missing. Catching up. One by one. Creating new, healthy habits, finding what to fill that space with. Embrace the emptiness.
A trip where the goal is to redefine what makes me me is like pressing reset. Trying to be more present and looking at my former life as someone else’s. Did not just rush back to my old self. Easier to observe deep triggers now. Still takes practice, but distance and space yields perspective.
Different stages start to unfold – most move on, somewhere forward, few stuck in loops. I started out wanting to be different. Different from what? Easier to find common ground with the loners and the ones “like you”, who also broke off the conventional way, moved to other countries, changed profession, lifestyle, challenged the status quo and themselves.
Almost midlife. “Golden years”? Was I living someone else’s dream? No, it was mine. Finally. It wasn’t better or worse than anyone else’s, just different.
Only better, if you wish it was you.
Trapped by my own mind – as the cliché goes.
Loneliness has risen again – just like in Malargüe – as I was sitting on a bench in an abandoned park at 11PM Sunday night after a semi-shitty movie in the cinema. I feel really alone. Like really-really alone.
What am I missing?
Finally arrived in my new life, why is it so uncomfortable?
Well, we have been down the other roads and here we are again – at least tried doing something about it – so a new method now: let’s just embrace the feeling again.
“Do not reach out to anyone!”
That was the urge I was having and what I used to do. Instead, just sit tight, listen, observe: let the winds of loneliness tear off pieces of my face as I stand still in the midst of this storm.
If a tram was to hit me in 5 minutes, I’d be content with my life. It feels mine already. But the feeling of the uncertain future and how it will be from now freezes me on that bench.
All this “contentiousness”, gained freedoms and experiences are in the past. They do not help me much if I feel stuck here and now.
Things have to be moving around me with a good enough pace. I need new people around me who motivate me, who challenge me, who love me.
Humans then. A deep desire of wanting to connect, feel understood and appreciated is pretty essential for most of humans. This comes at me when I feel I do not have my tribe. I do not belong.
The problem is choice – as the architect put it.
Part of humanity tend to believe that they are in control of the world around them, though their choices. Others think it’s all written. My view is that I can increase or decrease the probabilities of what happens through my choices.
Some interpret this probabilistic nature “the beauty of life”. If I have the illusion of complete control, I start to be suspicious about where is the fun that I am missing out on?
Yeah, FOMO of the things I do not know exist.
Was a year of experimenting, playing, challenging myself, letting go but not running away, have a new take on a familiar environment, conquering my fears by doing uncomfortable things, maybe they yield me with new insights. They did. And the meantime, enjoying that I do not have to move in 3 months somewhere.
New people, new beginnings, brave new hopes, brave new dreams in an old setting.