Despre a fi adevarat in Portland: Arta de a fi pierdut

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Cand am inceput acest blog Portland, initial l-am intitulat „On Being True at Thirty”. Mi s-a parut potrivit, avand in vedere ca acesta a fost anul in care am intrat in cel de-al patrulea deceniu din viata mea si am suferit multe schimbari si tranzitii catre o viata presupus mai asezata intr-un singur loc. M-am gandit la mine „Acesta este anul care imi marcheaza tranzitia in restul vietii mele” si alte ganduri stupide ca asta.

Am optat rapid pentru a schimba titlul – si acea mentalitate – pentru ca ceea ce imi dau seama (si din fericire) continuu este ca viata iti arunca constant bile curbe.

De obicei, sunt destul de bine ca nu simt presiunea societatii pentru a-mi adapta viata la normele sociale puse in aplicare cu privire la locul in care ar trebui sa fiu sau la ceea ce ar trebui sa fac intr-un anumit moment din viata mea. Dar, este atat de raspandit, este greu sa nu cedam din cand in cand! Din fericire, de obicei ma prind la timp inainte de a da cu adevarat.

La inceputul anilor 20, am crezut ca mi-am gasit calea in cariera. Gerontologie. Cine, la 19 ani, se indragosteste de lucrul cu adultii mai in varsta si petrece sase ani de studii superioare investind timpul, banii si energia ei in domeniul gerontologiei ?! Fata asta a facut-o. Si, intorcandu-ma in Portland, dupa ce am petrecut cinci ani facand in mare parte lucruri ne-gerontologice, m-am gandit ca pot merge doar inapoi in tara batranilor.

Am cautat in sus si in jos pentru locuri de munca care m-ar putea ajuta sa-mi revin in camp. Niciunul dintre ei nu m-a emotionat intr-adevar atat de mult, dar eram pregatit sa lucrez intr-o astfel de slujba doar ca sa-mi pun piciorul in usa. O treapta de soi. Habar n-aveam ce vreau sa fac de fapt, dar am presupus ca acesta este lucrul potrivit. Prima slujba care a venit a fost una pe care am luat-o cu entuziasm (care stia cand va putea veni urmatoarea oferta). Am crezut ca o pot face.

Se pare ca am gresit.

Se pare ca trebuie sa fac ceva care sa-mi ofere inspiratie in timpul zilei. Ceva care imi umple putin sufletul si ma face sa simt ca am facut ceva valoros in acele opt ore. Se dovedeste ca a fi un coordonator de personal nu este asa. Si, desi adultii mai in varsta si gerontologia vor avea intotdeauna un loc special in inima mea (si, fara indoiala, imi umplu sufletul si ma inspira), imi este greu sa gasesc exact locul in care ma incadrez in teren si ma intreb daca ar trebui sa urmaresc ceva mai strans legat de ceea ce am facut in ultimii ani cu viata mea.

Oricum.

Toate acestea deoparte, varsta de 30 de ani a fost pentru mine o calatorie:

Mi-am spus la revedere Coreei de Sud dupa trei ani de chemare acasa. Am plecat cu nenumarate amintiri de aventuri epice si o inima plina de dragoste pentru unii dintre cei mai buni prieteni pe care i-am avut vreodata.

Am calatorit in sapte tari cu un iubit care credeam ca s-ar putea transforma intr-o zi partener de viata … Si nu.

Am calatorit in sapte tari si am ajuns sa-mi petrec cea de-a 30-a zi de nastere la 4.150 metri (1330 metri) la Tabara de baza din Annapurna chiar in mijlocul unei calatorii de 20 de zile prin Himalaya din Nepal (dupa ce am atins o inaltime de aproape 18.000 de metri), Si-a petrecut o noapte dormind sub stelele din desertul indian, la doar cateva mile distanta de granita cu Pakistanul, a vazut un tigru salbatic in junglele din centrul Indiei, s-a imprastiat pe raul Ou noroios maroniu din Laos, plin de mango proaspat chiar de langa copac, in magie. Angkor Wat, si am mancat boluri si castroane de taitei pentru continutul inimii mele din Vietnam. Acestea sunt doar cateva dintre cele mai importante momente – nici macar nu am ajuns la aventurile de a-mi smulge lipitori de pe picioare sau de a fi atat de bolnava, incat am ratat o sansa de a vizita Taj Mahal.

M-am mutat inapoi in Oregon, un loc pe care il tin aproape si drag inimii mele, dar in care am trait doar un an din ultimele opt. L-am urmarit pe fratele meu sa se casatoreasca cu o femeie uimitoare si am petrecut timp cu copiii celor mai buni prieteni ai mei, dupa ce au pierdut primii ani din viata lor.

I moved up to Portland from Eugene, a place I’ve always thought I could someday call home. I was lucky and found a great house to live in for my first two months and have maintained a friendship with the two women with whom I lived. I have experienced countless moments of content and awe and inspiration while living here, many of which occur while admiring the cityscape, walking down a neighborhood sidewalk observing people going about their daily lives, enjoying local nature, or admiring the quirkiness of Portland. I have maintained a great social life–having friends from multiple phases of my life and constantly making new ones. My soccer team and the classes I take at the gym give me necessary exercise and provide some entertainment on the side.

So why, then, have I hit a wall? Why, despite knowing that my decision to resign from my job was right and despite having so many wonderful people in my life, do I feel stuck and that my life is lacking purpose?

I don’t like to admit it, because I’m one stubborn son-of-a-b****, but here are a few ideas (based on this article):

1. My ‘honeymoon phase’ of being back home is coming to a close. I came back when the weather was perfect and my brother was getting married. I enjoyed re-discovering Oregon and fantasized about all the amazing things I will get to do in future years now that I’m settled here.

2. I feel anything but settled–in my work, in my home, or in my life in general. I left the potential of getting my professional life settled after realizing that I couldn’t be settled in a job like that, not even for another month. Finding a home in which to settle proves itself to be more difficult (and expensive) than expected here in Portland and not being able to create a space to call home is wearing on me. Socially, I am fortunate and have more than enough people to be with should I start to feel lonely; however, having only been here a few months, none of those relationships are of the nature that I had while abroad (i.e., degree of closeness–emotional and physical proximity).

3. Delayed manifestation of my feelings of loss and stress related to my transition from abroad was something I (naively) didn’t expect. Though I never have to be alone here if I don’t want to be, I’ve often felt lonely. Ironically, that’s the complete opposite of my sentiments about independently traveling the world, where I often was alone, but never felt lonely. Once my ‘honeymoon phase’ wore off and I started the settling-in process here in Portland, I did start to mourn for my previous life and a number of times have had fleeting thoughts of going back.

4. I think I’ve forgotten how to date in the ‘real world’. It’s been so long since I’ve lived in a place that I plan to call home for the foreseeable future that, suddenly, my notion of dating as a long-distance and short-lived stage of life that happens in a smaller social network and where people just end up with the best person in that network because there are no other options, no longer makes sense and I don’t know what to do with it. I have joined the ranks of online dating because I don’t know how else to start. I have nothing but desire to find a life-long partner, but admittedly, starting that process at age 30 is a bit daunting.

5. I am, without a doubt, currently in this phase of feeling overwhelmed. I am tired. Tired of feeling in limbo, tired of not being settled, tired of the unknown. Every day I am doing my best to make the most of the day and remind myself of all the beauty and positives in my life.

Most days, it’s not too difficult and I smile and laugh to myself (literally!) that in some months, or a year from now, I will look back at these moments in my life and be proud for trudging through them to greater things. Some days are harder than others.

6. Who I was before going abroad, and who I am now, is in some ways two different people. At the root of me is the same person. But, who can argue against the notion that experiences shape us and who we are? When I think back to the endless number of experiences I’ve had in the past years–exhilarating, frustrating, empowering, thought-provoking, saddening, frightening, freeing–I am amazed with myself and what I’ve underwent and overcome. Taking your old self to a new place, and then bringing your new self to an old place is a strange and inexplicable phenomenon.

7. I’ve now been stateside for 5.5 months; I’ve been in Portland for just over three. Like most of us, I am my own worst enemy and am harder on myself than I could ever be on anyone else. Yes, I am struggling with the fact that I don’t have my life sorted by now because I feel like it should be. Feelings of discouragement, fear and grief have certainly reared their ugly heads at me from time to time in the past few months and at times, are a force to be reckoned with. However, the beauty of all of this is that travel and my life abroad has made me resilient and given me the tools to deal with these feelings and the optimism to stop, take a moment, and realize (and know) that it’s all going to be okay.

8. To a certain degree, I have been in a state of acceptance since I first stepped foot back on American soil. I wasn’t entirely naive about what this transition might look and feel like. I knew it wouldn’t be easy and I knew I would long for the life I had abroad, just as I longed for my life in Oregon while I was abroad. I think for me, the need for acceptance in my life comes with accepting the fact that I am in a state of transition and limbo, and that I don’t know exactly what I want to do professionally anymore. After experiencing so much and having my eyes opened wide to a world that I never could have imagined on my own, how can I expect myself to fall right back into the path that I momentarily stepped away from before going abroad?

9. It’s difficult to integrate that “exotic” life I had abroad with the familiar life of being back home. Family and friends back home, no matter how curious and supportive they may be, can’t fully understand where you are or where you’ve come from, just as I cannot fully understand the life or a home-owner, spouse, or parent. How to combine these lives enough to create a flow seems a difficult task; I suppose that’s why this is listed as one of the last ‘phases’ from the article.

10. It will be nice to one day look around me and breathe a deep sigh of “aaahhhh, home.” Though I dream of having that ‘home’ some day, I also hope to never let go of my desire to leave my comfort zone and continue to explore and experience the beautiful world around me. I might be going through a difficult time right now, but I wouldn’t trade a second of the last five years of my life for a ‘home’ right now.

Despre a fi adevarat in Portland: Arta de a fi pierdut

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