When you choose to get on a plane and leave your friends and family behind to go galavanting about the world, people tend to call you one of two things; crazy or brave. I've never felt like either of those words really applied to me until this morning, but now I claim them both.
In my other blogs I have touched briefly on my motivation for exploration. Usually, it comes in the form of some magical anecdote about wild birds or cool people that I've met. Never have I ever claimed that abandoning my comfort zone was remotely uncomfortable; let's just say I don't do it to get in Dauntless faction, if you know what I mean. It's pure, unadulterated selfishness that puts my butt on a plane time and time again.
You know how I know I'm not brave? Because I never understood why people ask me, "Are you nervous?" before I leave. Sure, in the days before a trip, my heart rate is through the roof, my whole body is jittery, I can't sleep and if you ask my family they'll probably all tell you that I'm more than a little testy. However, all of these symptoms are merely explaining away my unfiltered excitement. The only anxiety I experience is about whether or not I'll miss my flight or misplace my passport. Perhaps that makes me "crazy" after all but wouldn't acknowledging a little crazy in and of itself negate said crazy?
When I woke up this morning, however, I was not the untethered free spirit that signed away 2 years of her life to the Peace Corps, nor was I the curious zoophile who dismissed traditional study abroad sites for something a little more out there, nor even was I the unexperienced little girl who spoke no more than 3 sentences of Spanish yet still decided to spend a whole summer in Spain just so she could change that fact. The excitement that I'd been nurturing for months was hijacked by something different entirely. It made me realize, that something that has also always been in place before any implementation of a brave or crazy decision was a peaceful state of mind and let's just say that I couldn't exactly claim my emotional stars to be what you'd call nicely "aligned."
Sometimes, all you need is the loving, warm arms of a parent or nearness to a friendly face. But, what do you do when unbearably raw vulnerability comes at the same time as your big trip to Thailand? You put on your big girl panties, don the "brave" badge, get on the freaking plane and follow through with the crazy idea to isolate yourself from everything and everyone that can make you feel better. You can also thank Buddha that there are blankets on the plane that you can hide yourself under when "adulting" overwhelms you a little too much.
I'm sharing all this annoying fluff because at the end of the day, this is just a new manifestation of the type of learning environment that I strive in- I guess the textbook scenario just got too easy to encourage further growth. Despite whether or not I got off on the right proverbial foot, I'm still moving forward with my heart and my commitment. To use the words of a "friend," I'm doing this for me because I love to travel and know the world, so what does all the other stuff matter? No matter what I'm leaving behind and the distress doing so has caused me, I owe it to myself and my future students to make the most of this adventure. In fact, maybe following my passion is just what I need to feel better.
Bottom line is everyone has bad days (which could actually probably turn into difficult weeks or even months) and while right this moment dumb quotes about struggle being part of your metamorphosis to the real you or whatever make me want scream until my teeth fall out... in the murky deep depths of my soul I know there's a grain of truth to them. It will be up to me to put pain in the past and start again with a fresh outlook. I've got about 8 more hours to buck up and the next time I write, I promise to leave the emo, sappy crap in Indiana. Nothing but beaches and elephants and pad thai from here on out! Wish me luck.
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