Here in Boston, we finally seem to be getting a small break from the rain. Today was a warm and sunny day, and driving home tonight, I noticed the moon was big, full, and very yellow. I love the moon.
I love the way it reminds us that we are, in fact, on a planet that is part of the universe (or at least it reminds me). I love the way it changes each day. Also, remember when I mentioned how terrified I was before I moved to Spain the first time to study abroad? One night, while secretly thinking my terrified thoughts, I looked up and saw the moon. Corny, I know, but I thought about how the moon would still be there when I was in Spain. How far away and different could Spain possibly be if something as familiar as the moon would be there too?
I think that part of the appeal, I realize now, is that Spain is different and foreign and far away. Every second is an adventure, just because you’re there, you know? The second time there I got caught up in that excitement and almost stayed another year. I absolutely loved it there and I absolutely loved me there. I was torn about staying another year and having fun, and coming home to face the responsibilities of growing up and beginning a career. I liked the independence I had found in Spain and I wanted to continue to flourish in it.
I have a well-kept record of my thoughts from that time period because, as you may or may not know, I was a traveling English teacher. Often, I had an hour or more of time to waste between classes and in that time, I would read or write in a notebook that I carried with me. In one entry, I was finally able to put into words what I had been feeling:
It’s only been six months. I know that if I left now and went home everything would be the same. I would be pretty much the same. Home would be home.
Littleton, Colorado is my home. It’s where I’m from, where I grew up. My life revolves around that point. No matter where else I go, that place is the anchor. However, what if I don’t need that place? What if I let it go? What if it is no longer the center of my universe? Then who do I become? Then where does my life go?
What if I’m willing to start all over?
It was really hard for me when I got home the second time because I did have crazy adventures in Spain, and I did feel like a different person when I was there. But coming home to my childhood house was just as I had imagined; absolutely nothing had changed. It was as if time had stood still.
I needed to get out. I needed to go somewhere that I could live permanently. None of this short-term adventure living. It had to be a place that I could make my new home. A completely new place. I may as well have thrown darts at a map and chose Boston.
Looking back now, I clearly see what a poorly thought-out and rash decision it was. Even though it was all I could think about from the time I arrived back in Colorado, until I packed up my car to drive across the country almost six months later. It seems completely crazy to me now. But I did it anyway
Wow, that was deep. I think I’ll write some more on this later. (To be continued.)