Relocation is not for everyone. I think back to my days as a “local”, working with so many “expats”, and simply rolling my eyes at their stories about things being hard. Because I did not know any better, I would wonder what could be so hard about the beautiful home you get in a new country, about travelling the world, about joining new communities. All fun and games, right?
Almost a month into my own relocation, I have reached a level of tiredness that I am sure has something to do with my age but mostly with the amount of newness around me. Monday morning comes in and in a blink of an eye the ones around me wish me a nice weekend. I pat myself on the back for mastering one task only to pave the road for my panic at being assigned five new ones I feel I know nothing about.
Finding my place in a new community has been like tredding water for days on end. I get introduced to several people daily, I receive questions I feel I should know the answer to but don’t, I beg impostor syndrome to cut me some slack because I need to concentrate, deep breaths are as often about enjoying my surroundings as they are about keeping panic at bay and every night I pass out instead of falling asleep.
It is very easy, when one plans a move, especially if the destination is a coveted place, to see everything ahead through rose colored glasses. Even after just one month there are two things that I would for sure advise anyone to put in their backpack if they are ever considering relocation: a mindfulness practice and the intention to create their own experience rather than going on perspectives offered to them.
While I master none of these, two things have kept me afloat in this new experience. One has been the effort of taking perspectives offered to me (with or without request) as just that, personal perspectives, doing my very best to be educated by my own, personal experience. The other, taking everything that comes my way one issue at a time. There are countless times a day when I feel overwhelm draw near because of things I am told or watching my plate overflow. It is almost tempting many times to let myself be swept away by the rapids. That is when I take a deep breath and remember that I can choose courage or I can choose comfort. Comfort is tempting, yes. But what amazing thing ever came out of too much of it?
Photo by Oscar Keys on Unsplash
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