Moved by Moving

Leaving home gets harder and harder every time I do it. And I’m always asked, “Why do you like living abroad?” and “How do you do it?”

After years of thinking about it, I finally found some potential answers, thoughts repeated in my mind if nothing else.

I have developed a deep, deep passion for the world. I’ve had it for years, and I’m guessing I always will. It keeps me going and partly blinds me from the pain that I inevitably feel when I leave. This world just has so much to offer. There are so many people and lessons and activities and views to meet and learn and do and see. The fact that all of this is available and waiting is pretty insane to me and I can’t miss out. Long ago I told myself I would see as much of the world as I could and this goal is never-ending and doesn’t get easier the older I grow, but until that promise no longer serves me, I must go and go and go.

I look around and think to myself that the reason life is so wonderful is because we get to choose. Sure, there are some givens, but at the end of the day I hope we can all recognize that we have the power to change what surrounds, consumes, inspires, angers, and pushes us, simply by making different choices. Sometimes I look at the places I spend most of my time, at the things I own and use, and at the people I share my days with. When I see each of these truly, I am able to trace back to the moment I let them in, and more importantly, the moment I let them stay. Through this consistent practice I’ve come to the understanding that I am allowing what and who surrounds me. When I leave home, I recognize fully that it is my choice, and that there is no one else to thank or blame for what I see when I open my eyes.

I love home. I love coming home and I love being home. I love the place I get to call home, and the people from home that I get to keep in my life regardless of whether I’m physically there or not. I treasure this place so deeply because I only get to have it sometimes. At this point, many places feel like home, and I can’t afford to take that for granted either. But home has always been people for me. It just so happens that a large percentage of the people I love are in the same place, and for that fact alone, I love home.

I crave stories. How else would we learn and grow from each other if we didn’t share them with each other? Most anything we say or exchange in conversation, on social media, through music and film, while people-watching, and when we lie awake at night thinking about our day, is a story. They are being shared in different ways, selectively, and again we can choose and craft them how we want to. Anything that happens to us is one story, and the way we choose to see it once it’s done or tell it when it’s over, are other stories. Every place I go gives me another story to tell, and many to listen to. At any time I can draw from this archive, and I can learn.

I like being uncomfortable. I like placing and finding myself outside of the zone I would describe as “comfortable”. I like the rush of new environments and unfamiliar ground. I like how it feels to know that time is all it takes to adjust to most change and most difficulties. And I know from experience, that when we are uncomfortable, we are growing. It’s easy to stay, but I prefer a little bit of pushing my boundaries if it means expanding my growth as a human through the days I have been given. I don’t like leaving because it’s uncomfortable, I like leaving because of where it gets me. So, here I am again, getting through the uncomfortable changes to find what is waiting for me. And something always is.

Every time I leave home, I cry at the airport while waiting at the gate for boarding. It’s never because I want to stay, but because leaving doesn’t feel as good as arriving. The last few months I spent at home have been everything I’ve dreamt of and more. I am so grateful for all the time I got to share with so many people, all of whom I consider myself lucky to know and connect with. I’m thankful for all the food that I got to eat, and that I am always missing when away. I know that home isn’t everyone’s favorite place, so I know my luck for all that it is, to have been brought to a place that fills me with good love and good memories, each and every time.

 

 

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Reeeeewind…

I thiiiiink that this might be a very lengthy post…but I always say that and then get tired of typing and stop after 5 minutes.  So I’m sorry in advance if that happens.

WELL.  It’s been an extremely busy crazy awesome happy two weeks since I have posted.

First and foremost, I discovered this super adorbs Twitter account called Doctor Pug (@DoctorPug).
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Like come on, isn’t that the cutiest thing ever?!  It makes me so happy and I would love to hang out with the pug or person who tweets as Dr. Pug.

ALSO.  I discovered a show on Animal Planet called “Too Cute: Fluffy Puppy Party”.  I never watch TV but I was stuck on the couch for a Too Cute marathon for a whole day.  Thanks, Animal Planet.

Okay, now that that’s out of my system.

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I moved into my house at school with the best roomiez a girl could ask for!!  They love bacon, are happy, laugh a lot, like drinking beer and wine, enjoy Taco Tuesday and Sunday family dinners, and most importantly they tolerate my weirdness and loud music.  It felt like home the second I walked in, and it makes me giddy inside when I go to sleep that I’m surrounded by a lot of love and happiness.

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Pictured above is Wiener and Banana (the best duo you will ever know) in their prime; having beer and playing video games within the first few hours of reuniting after 9 months apart.

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For the last three years I have been a Hofstra Welcome Week Leader, and this year was no different.  I absolutely adored the group of students that were assigned to me.  As I sat them in a circle I introduced myself and watched them to do the same, it took me back to 2010 when I was in their shoes.  I looked at all of them and found that the last three years of college have changed me incredibly.  I mean, the age difference between an 18 year old and a 21 year old is not very big, but the life experience that college has introduced to me is sort of mind blowing in retrospect.

It was a very nostalgic Welcome Week.  It kind of hurts to be a senior while participating and working on events and programs planned for freshmen.  And sometimes I think I have more school pride than a normal person should.

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But at least I got to lead a trip to Radio City Music Hall (and I didn’t lose any students!) for a stage door tour.  We met a rockette and also got private tours of the halls and stages at Lincoln Center.  Incredible!

During Welcome Week, I was also asked to speak at a study abroad panel for new students interested in studying abroad, and I had what I like to call the “study abroad glow” happening for at least a week after those two study abroad sessions.  There is nothing I love more than answering questions about Spain, study abroad, API, or my time abroad.

It’s been a weird thing adjusting back into life at school and not in Spain.  It’s crazy to understand if you’ve never been through something similar to study abroad because it seems a little overdramatic when I talk about the transition home, but it’s so real and so difficult.  I remember reading about reverse culture shock and blah blah blah before leaving for Spain, and I kind of skimmed through that material, but now it’s hitting me that it really exists, and it’s not easy.

I love life at home and here at school, but the love I have for my life in Sevilla is of another kind.  And I think that’s okay.

Throwback Tuesday:

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I have a feeling this semester will be tough in several ways but I’m ready for it.