Home Is Where the Heart Is
I recently went on a date, and the topic came up about living and traveling. For all the boasting I do about traveling and living abroad, and all the reflection on how I would happier elsewhere, I was caught with my foot in my mind.
After discussing travel and places we've visited, he asked me, "If you could live anywhere right now, where would it be?"
UMMM....
Geez, I don't know.
I was speechless. I should have that answer at the tip of my tongue. My go-to answer for, "Where would you like to travel?" is "Anywhere!" but living? I don't think it's quite so simple.
At one point in my life, I quite honestly would have moved to just about anywhere. I graduated from grad school, did not have a job right away and was feverishly looking for work. While I had my career focus in mind, my location was a different story. I was far less picky. I understood that moving would be a challenge, but I was willing to do it in order to secure a job, and I understood that cost of living changed from state to state, even country to country in some of my job prospects. (All of which did not work out.) Therefore, I've spent the last six years still at home, and as I said in my story, all I have dreamt about was NOT living here. Yet when I was posed the question about living elsewhere, I couldn't think of a single place.
I can't say I've lived in many places, unfortunately, and in my cases, they have all been first world and fairly comfortable. I resided in Mt. Saint Aignan, a suburb of Rouen, in what's considered low-income housing for six months while I studied abroad. It was my first time living away from home, alone, and it was pretty scary at first. I was independent and could perform normal day-to-day tasks, but I was my own protection. A year and a half later, I moved to Lower Manhattan to attend grad school, but it was easier. I had a bus I could take back home, and I did at first a few weekends. Then I forced myself to stay, stick it out, and keep busy. For my second year at grad school, I lived in a sublet in Midwood, Brooklyn and felt completely isolated. I thought it would be some hip neighborhood, but in actuality, it reminded me of Northern NJ. Suburban, quiet and (gasp) "unhip." After a series of some incidents at the building where I stayed (which I later saw on Google Maps as being torn down), I gave my notice and moved back home where I commuted to school for the remainder of the last semester. I thought it was just going to be temporary.
Sure, I've dreamt about living abroad again, and I still do; but I remind myself of those downtimes. The times when there was nothing to do but sit in my apartment alone when my friends were busy, and I was not. This is not to say that I should dwell on these things, but it's a reminder that the exotic is "exotic" until it's not. When it comes to being content with one's surroundings, it's all what one is either used to, or could get used to. It's about being okay with the mundane, the routine and the unexciting passing of time. It's about still getting up for work, sitting in traffic (possibly), buying groceries, cleaning the bathroom and doing laundry. Throw in some life events, i.e. living with a partner or having a child, and then that's compounded. However, it's also about creating a community. If I could go back to those times I was away from home, I would have gotten a lot more involved in the community. I did some volunteer work for the Red Cross, but I should have been even more active. Having that circle of friends to rely on makes the difference and erases the feelings of isolation.
(This is all, of course, making the assumption that one could live anywhere freely- whether it's "home" or not. I'm not intending this post to discuss migrant work, refugees or escaping harsh situations.)
With the same breath, sometimes I feel like I have failed in some way by not gaining more "life" experience abroad or away from home- as if I've been held back. In a way, I suppose that could be the truth, but instead of mulling over the what-if's, I have been proactively trying to work on a solid move. The solid move may not be the final move, but it would be planned and successful. It would be made with sound decision, and not just because I need to get a job or need to get away. My patience has definitely been tested, and there are days I do dream of dropping everything and walking away (and then getting in my car and driving to the nearest airport).
So did I ever answer this guy? I did- didn't you see the top? I said I don't know, and that's the truth. As far as I know, I am where I'm supposed to be, and that's until further notice.
A few fond memories when I really felt "at home."
After discussing travel and places we've visited, he asked me, "If you could live anywhere right now, where would it be?"
UMMM....
Geez, I don't know.
I was speechless. I should have that answer at the tip of my tongue. My go-to answer for, "Where would you like to travel?" is "Anywhere!" but living? I don't think it's quite so simple.
At one point in my life, I quite honestly would have moved to just about anywhere. I graduated from grad school, did not have a job right away and was feverishly looking for work. While I had my career focus in mind, my location was a different story. I was far less picky. I understood that moving would be a challenge, but I was willing to do it in order to secure a job, and I understood that cost of living changed from state to state, even country to country in some of my job prospects. (All of which did not work out.) Therefore, I've spent the last six years still at home, and as I said in my story, all I have dreamt about was NOT living here. Yet when I was posed the question about living elsewhere, I couldn't think of a single place.
I can't say I've lived in many places, unfortunately, and in my cases, they have all been first world and fairly comfortable. I resided in Mt. Saint Aignan, a suburb of Rouen, in what's considered low-income housing for six months while I studied abroad. It was my first time living away from home, alone, and it was pretty scary at first. I was independent and could perform normal day-to-day tasks, but I was my own protection. A year and a half later, I moved to Lower Manhattan to attend grad school, but it was easier. I had a bus I could take back home, and I did at first a few weekends. Then I forced myself to stay, stick it out, and keep busy. For my second year at grad school, I lived in a sublet in Midwood, Brooklyn and felt completely isolated. I thought it would be some hip neighborhood, but in actuality, it reminded me of Northern NJ. Suburban, quiet and (gasp) "unhip." After a series of some incidents at the building where I stayed (which I later saw on Google Maps as being torn down), I gave my notice and moved back home where I commuted to school for the remainder of the last semester. I thought it was just going to be temporary.
Sure, I've dreamt about living abroad again, and I still do; but I remind myself of those downtimes. The times when there was nothing to do but sit in my apartment alone when my friends were busy, and I was not. This is not to say that I should dwell on these things, but it's a reminder that the exotic is "exotic" until it's not. When it comes to being content with one's surroundings, it's all what one is either used to, or could get used to. It's about being okay with the mundane, the routine and the unexciting passing of time. It's about still getting up for work, sitting in traffic (possibly), buying groceries, cleaning the bathroom and doing laundry. Throw in some life events, i.e. living with a partner or having a child, and then that's compounded. However, it's also about creating a community. If I could go back to those times I was away from home, I would have gotten a lot more involved in the community. I did some volunteer work for the Red Cross, but I should have been even more active. Having that circle of friends to rely on makes the difference and erases the feelings of isolation.
(This is all, of course, making the assumption that one could live anywhere freely- whether it's "home" or not. I'm not intending this post to discuss migrant work, refugees or escaping harsh situations.)
With the same breath, sometimes I feel like I have failed in some way by not gaining more "life" experience abroad or away from home- as if I've been held back. In a way, I suppose that could be the truth, but instead of mulling over the what-if's, I have been proactively trying to work on a solid move. The solid move may not be the final move, but it would be planned and successful. It would be made with sound decision, and not just because I need to get a job or need to get away. My patience has definitely been tested, and there are days I do dream of dropping everything and walking away (and then getting in my car and driving to the nearest airport).
So did I ever answer this guy? I did- didn't you see the top? I said I don't know, and that's the truth. As far as I know, I am where I'm supposed to be, and that's until further notice.
A few fond memories when I really felt "at home."
Comments
Post a Comment