I Have Travelled 6,600 Miles Away

I have travelled 6,600 miles away from all I knew before. From the familiar lifestyle and culture. From the familiar food and roads and places. From everything I had left behind from my life there before. But I have travelled so far and possibly found myself back again at square one.

I arrived here and cried wretched tears that night. Bitter, wretched tears that poured out of a broken heart, spurred on my memories of what was supposed to be and reminders of what was. I took one look around and descended into a puddle of sobs.

As the days went by and the week ended, I was asked the question of whether I missed home. And somehow to my surprise I found that the answer was no. Within 7 days I had managed to start running again. Because back home was where I sank into the comfort of my daily routines and built around myself a comfort zone consisting of my daily activities and distractions. I wrapped myself in my routine like a blanket and hid. I pursued distractions like it was going out of style. And I left it all to oblivion. I hid from everything in the comfort of my familiar routines. And upon arriving here, I was wrenched out of that comfort zone, out of that routine and the warm blanket I had curled up and hid in for so long. The pain was real and raw and brought about the tears like those of a baby from a womb but burdened by more than just the shock and cold of the new world.

As the week went by since I was forced to shed my protective emotional blanket, I realized that now back home felt and seemed like the past to me. It was where I hid, where I curled up into a ball and hid and sank desperately into my comfort zone and my routines. Burrowing desperately to seek some reprieve from something no place or routine could truly give.

I didn't wanna go back to the place where I hid and burrowed so desperately seeking comfort. The memory of it depressed me, the haplessness, the desperation, I wanted to turn away from it all. And I wanted to look outwards, further ahead to future and better things. But then I realized, my time here in this place is short. Regardless of whether I like it or not, staying would be a difficult option. Work is difficult to find, and I would only be here for one year depending on various external factors and circumstances. And with that realization, I felt like there was nothing I could look forward to either.

So then I felt lost. Untethered by either a pull or a desire to go back to where I was, but not led or pulled forward by a dream, a hope or an intention. I felt lost, floating freely, un-anchored and adrift. Some would call it freedom. One could also call it a lack of direction. I didn't know where to turn for truly in that moment, all that existed was truly just today. No yesterday, no tomorrow, only today.

To a certain extent I wondered. Was it better to have longed for home since it tethers one to something and gives you something to hold on to, a certainty and a constant, as opposed to this directionless drifting in an ether of uncertainty and confusion.

Love brings us to funny places in the end.

I thought I had run and was running away from what had tethered me to the sorrow and the heartbreak that pervaded my life back there where I left. But it occurred to me the other day. I was running. I was still running. And I'd probably continue running. That wasn't the way. Because it doesn't matter where you go and what new life one carves out for oneself wherever one is. You can't run away from what's inside of you.