A lot can happen in two years.
A few weeks ago, I quit my job, moved out of my apartment in New York City, and packed up a suitcase and moved to London, a city that had always loomed large and beautiful in my mind. A place I’d often thought, dreamed, talked about. And now I’m here.
It is at once surreal and challenging. Surreal because it’s still sinking in, and at first, I found myself gliding on the surface of the moment vs. actually being in the moment. (Sometimes, your brain needs to catch up to your actions, though of late, I quite prefer this than the other way around – I tend to overthink things.) And challenging because it’s quite lonely to be on one’s own and not have any choice in the matter.
I found these lines comforting because they’re true, which means my decision must have been the right one…that my other life was too small for me and I needed to ask more of the world.
But these are also lines that hover, because I want to continue to live up to them.
Why is this harder than it should be?
Because “alive” doesn’t mean comfort, routine, familiarity. Because “alive” could also mean discomfort, vulnerability, and fear.
It takes a brave soul to dive headfirst into it anyway.