Sunday, January 22, 2006

Better Call the Calling Off Off

I find that it's really hard to start things right now. New ideas, new activities, new relationships, anything and everything seems hard to get started. Part of the difficulty is the fact that I'm already getting started with a big change. Having this time deadline is frustrating. I know that anything I start is only for a limited time.

A friend of mine is moving into a new place. In order to save some money between moves, moved out of her place a few months ago. For the first few months she put off trying new activities by reasoning "after I move in to my new home, I'll start X." This resulted in a bit of a stagnation. After shaking off this feeling of stagnation she decided that there was nothing preventing her from starting anything.

It not like she was leaving the country or whatnot.

That's the toughest thing for me, I think. I'm leaving the country. Sure, it's only for a month, but then another month or two after that.

After that...I don't know. Maybe things won't be the same. People will have moved on with their lives. Perhaps I won't fit in any more.[1]

Or maybe I won't come back.

I've this dream in the back of my mind to live and work abroad for a time. It's a bit of a romantic thing, I think. Spending an unspecified time in Paris, for example. Becoming just that familiar with a language, culture and place where it's like home.

I don't want mislead anyone, here. I really like Minneapolis. It's one of the best little cities in the country. But, it's a big world, out there and my feet are getting itchy.[2]

What does this all have to do with getting started with things? Well, I think the worry is two-fold. First the above mentioned insecurity that people will just move on with out me, or that starting some new activity will be useless (I'll forget it pretty damned quickly, I think). The second on is the whole (remote) possibility that I won't come back. If I don't start anything, perhaps there will be less incentive to come back. Maybe I want to be freed up to drift about, a leaf in the wind.

Or perhaps, simply, I just have enough on my plate. This traveling is serious business. I can't be taking on new things at this time. There's just no time, no mental and emotional space.

Yeah, sure, I can tell myself that. Or perhaps I can just try things, and see what happens.

[1] Holy crap, that's a lot of insecurity pouring out, right there. Let's rein that in there, cowboy.

[2] Believe me, there's is not a cream for that. The travel itch is only curable by one thing: more travel. In high doses. Once yearly. It's chronic, you know. Comes around when you least expect it, or need it. You'll be comfortable in your little life with your little routines and little entertainments and, then, bam, your feet start to itch bad.

To prevent this from happening to you, avoid all travel writing and photography. Particular virulent strains can be caught from National Geographic or study-abroad students. If you have been in contact with either of these in the last twenty-four hours, contact your travel agent immediately.

This has been a public service annoucement from the Travel Addicts Society of America (TASA).

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