Now and then, I want to get away. Sometimes temporarily, sometimes for good. And sometimes to another universe entirely. Running away from a job and overbearing manager springs to mind, when I got the train to an internet cafe one morning, and sent an email saying I wasn’t coming in.
There’s something about location-independence that appeals to me, something about the nomads and travellers I’ve read about, and even come across. I know part of me is distorting the reality here, in my classic dreamer-like way.
However, for whatever reason, the idea of being able to earn, and live, and travel, whilst being anywhere in the world, appeals to me. Heck, I might even want to travel with the future kids around the world (if I have them). Freedom to roam. Again, the idealist in me possibly.
The world is a big place, and whilst I’ve been fortunate to do my fair share of travelling, there’s still so much left to see. Last year, I did 3 weeks of solo travel, and the year before a week on my own, to go to an awesome conference in Portland, Oregon. (Ah, I want to go back to Portland and explore more of the Pacific Northwest. I really loved how Portland was a friendly city, with access to nature, waterfalls and mountains. I didn’t see enough of it). Solo-travel had been something I’d wanted to experience, and I did so in a fairly low-risk manner – they were all cities with infrastructure, and weren’t so remote/“dangerous”.
My mental health was recovering still last year and, despite some low mood and thoughts beginning to creep in whilst away, I survived.
Will I do it again? I might well, in some capacity. Will I live abroad? Maybe. It’s strange. I went through this phase of yearning to get away and be somewhere else. Partly, I reckon, I feel this was for an escape from the unhappy reality I have experienced. And partly, on some level, I feel that moving away will expose me to new things, and force me to have new experiences, gain greater independence and autonomy – and, crucially, feel like an adult.
Whilst being away, even for the short time I was, I realised just how much I missed “home”. Home comforts, the security of my family there. I surprised myself a bit. I felt liked I ‘needed’ my family more than I thought I would. (At time of publishing – I’m halfway through the film Brooklyn, which I’d highly recommend, and I can somewhat empathise with the main character’s – played by Saiorse Ronan – coping with moving away from Ireland to New York).
Perhaps this will change. Or perhaps I will move away for a while. For a long time. Whether alone, or with a significant other.
Who on earth knows what the future will hold? I’m learning to let go of some of these dreams and fantasies I have, as obsession with them can lead to despair at ‘not being there’. I am trying not to pin my happiness on just one thing – e.g. moving away, or based on future plans.
Whilst there are things that I like the idea of, I must remember to put them in perspective (for example, working abroad will not be like going on holiday), whilst accepting my life as it is right now, and being often to what opportunities might come my way, and the path I find myself taking.
I have faith.
✏ Written: Sunday, 25th February 2018 @ 1.17am
What about you? 🌍
Are you a homebody or a traveller? Or perhaps somewhere in between? I’d love to hear your perspective on all this.