“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
— Anaïs Nin
I watched The Prince and Me the other night. Not because I’m the biggest fan of chick flicks (although I’ll never say no to a good Hugh Grant rom-com) but, as it so often happens, it was on TV and I was keen to veg out after work.
As the film neared its ending, Prince Edvard gave a speech technically about his ill father and his own ascension to the throne, but one that also mourned Julia Stiles’ decision to break off their engagement and pursue her dream of med school back in the States. And it was there, on the balcony of the Danish royal palace, that the prince said:
Moving forward is rarely accomplished without considerable grief and sadness.
Suddenly, I was sitting up in stunned confusion. I’m sorry, but did a chick flick just deliver a thought not only profound but also relevant to my life?
Unsettling, isn’t it?
I’m heading to India in about two weeks (okay, fine, sixteen days…but I’m not counting), and while I should probably be apprehensive about the immediate task of driving a rickshaw across the country, what I’m more nervous about is what comes after…the months I’ve decided to stay on in India, the plans I’ve already made and that which I don’t yet know will happen…and beyond that, there’s the getting on with life post-master’s program, the adjustment back to a world without the structure of lectures and assignments and grades.
So when people ask me if I’m nervous at all about the trip, it’s all I can do not to scream yes! and go running under my bed. Nervous about moving forward, and caught in the tension of these next couple of weeks:
It’s the tension of where we are now and where we’ll soon be…
I got to thinking last night (always dangerous when that happens), specifically about the traffic light system in the UK. Back home, it’s all rather simple–green for go, yellow for slow, red for stop. Repeat. Not that I drive a lot in London, but on the occasional bus ride, I’ve noticed a fourth stage here: after a red light, the yellow (or amber, I should say) light will glow simultaneously. I found this explanation:
“This combination of [red and amber] bulbs indicates that the lights are about to change to green, and gives drivers time to release their handbrake and prepare to drive off as soon as they are allowed to do so.”
Don’t you love that? It gives drivers time to release–and isn’t that what the weeks leading up to any big trip are always about? Letting go of where we are now in exchange for what’s to come.
…the tension of wanting to be in two places at once…
It isn’t that I want to leave England, or the home I’ve made for myself here over the past year. But to get ready for the experiences that are waiting for me and Citlalli in India, I have to say some pretty painful goodbyes, knowing that with some, like my friend Grace from Taiwan, we have little idea of when the next time we say hello will be.
This kind of travelling/nomadic/insert-trendy-blogging-term-here lifestyle has its stages: the initial euphoria of the Decision to Go, the excitement of Planning the Trip, the stress of the Departure, the many Adventures, and the inevitable Return. Ayngelina of Bacon is Magic wrote a post about this last stage called “When the Honeymoon is Over,” describing her return to her hometown of Toronto.
I really connected with her feelings of “post-travel depression,” but I’m in a different stage right now–the grey zone when plans have been made, but the trip hasn’t yet started. It’s difficult to stay present, to not wish away the remaining days.
…and the tension between what is known and what is unknown.
I would volunteer myself to be the spokesperson for leaving our comfort zone, if such a position actually existed, and yet when the time comes for me to do so myself, I always seem to have forgotten how difficult it is. I love challenging the unknown, but don’t get me wrong:
I still hate change.
As one of my favorite bands, The Weepies, sings in their song “Same Changes”:
Well I ask, does anything ever stay the same…
Thumbnails courtesy of IMDB and Fortissimezzo.
love this post!!
wow ”Moving forward is rarely accomplished without considerable grief and sadness” !! i should really start watching chick flicks…
Thanks, my friend! I know it’s got a bit of a more serious tone, but I did love writing this one–trying to blend thoughts on travel and life together 🙂
Hi there,
I just stumbled across this post from your ‘new here?’ page and being the first post of yours I’ve read I 1. can’t believe I have only just found your blog and 2. can’t believe how much this particular post resonated with me…
I completely understand the feelings you describe (and love the traffic light analogy). Literally last night I had a Skype interview with a representative in South Korea for a teaching job this September and, the war aside, I have such mixed feelings of intense excitement of the prospect of setting up a life somewhere new, and also of leaving the comfort I have here, not only at home with my family, but also the comfort I have found in education.
But I know, from my own experience, and from reading about people like yourself who have taken the plunge and have come out of it better than ever and loving life, that it will all work out how it is meant to…
I look forward to perusing more of your archives!
Hello Jade! I’m so sorry to just get back to you – I was hiking the 88-Temple Circuit on Shodoshima Island in Japan all last week and unfortunately had very limited internet access. But I can’t thank you enough for your comment, and for taking the time to check out my site – it’s wonderful to meet you here! I’m so glad to hear that some of my posts might be just the encouragement you need in making the decision to go teach in Korea – I can’t tell you how anxious and apprehensive I always am and have been before each new venture – whether it was moving to New Zealand to work, to London to get my masters, or to India to write – but each experience has always, without fail, been worth it. It’s just that initial decision that’s so scary to make 🙂 I look forward to staying in touch, and hearing how the opportunity to teach in Korea unfolds for you!