But it's time to move on.
Time for a cliche-filled opus. I think I use lots of cliche life statements in my rants, but this one will probably be especially full of 'em.
So I write this sitting on a plane, on my way back to NYC after my 5 month stay in London. I have wasted the past 20 minutes staring at my blank screen, unable to think of anything to write about. I couldn't get a single decent thought to pop up. Nothing. My cracked out head is usually full of dumb shit, so I was a little disturbed.
I felt as if I was in a weird daze, like fuzzy hungover type daze where you just kinda exist while eating cereal straight out of the box and watching cartoons. But I'm not hungover. I am rambling.
The overwhelming swing of emotions from leaving London ("home" for 5 months) was definitely settling in. I had a disaster of a morning to get ready (dancing with Polish girls until 4 a.m., never good for getting up early), and spent the first 3 hours of flight watching movies, so I didn't even realize what was happening until now.
Am I ready to get back to NYC and the grand US of A? Surely. But what is more evident now is how much I really did love London, and more importantly, the amazing people who I met and drank/laughed/danced/rocked with.
You don't realize what you have until it's gone.
It wasn't until my last 3 days that I noticed the end was near. "Goodbye" dinners, drinks, lunches, hugs, all that shit. Whoa, I'm really leaving now. Whereas I had a great portion of time before thinking about what I missed about New York and home, more recently I started appreciating and admitting to myself how attached I had become to what life had become for me there. This culminated in my super reflective state.
It's never too late to start.
I think at some point I subconsciously decided to quit worrying about when I'd go home, and start just living London and the people there. I am so thankful that I made that mental switch. I wouldn't be able to sit here and reflect on what these past months have meant to me without having done that.
It's better to feel pain and loss than to feel nothing at all.
I feel amazingly privileged and enriched to have now gone through 2 very distinct and equally challenging (for some similar, some different reasons) large scale moves. North Carolina to NYC, NYC to London. In both cases, I had to say goodbyes to people whom I cared deeply for, but knew that I would get to see them again, which is obviously better than never. But in a fucked way, it makes it worse. I don't want this to come out wrong, but in certain situations, you wish people/things would just disappear entirely off of the face of the earth, and you couldn't worry/think/obsess over those things since they didn't even exist. Now rereading that, it's a ridiculous statement. I love my folk. What's the point of living like that? Bring on the hard feelings, it only makes us stronger.
'Til we meet again.
The interesting bit for me, is that my world is in such a different state than it was in January. This is mostly do to people things (marriage, baby, relocations), so in a sense, I feel like I have missed out on a lot and maybe the train left me at the station, but this is the sort of stuff that makes you face what you don't want to, and own up to your feelings and what you need to do with them. There is nothing I can do to change what was happened and what is, so I just have to smile and let it be.
I don't like the Beatles that much. I just quoted a song.
The whole situation and experience, it literally was incredible and such a fortuitous happening. I get to experience living abroad in one of the greatest cities in the world, get to work on a high profile project, and meet amazing people who I otherwise wouldn't have met, and now have those everlasting friendships. And I feel that I have grown exponentially as a person, and have a few extra rounds of ammunition now in the ongoing war of life. Extremely grateful.
We start living when we're ready to die.
Just living. Living is so damn good. Not existing. That's boring. Not getting by. That's annoying. Sure, circumstances limit what the definition of "living" really is, but I am more aware of the mental state of realizing that time is precious, and that you can't get anywhere by taking steps backwards. I find I am always at my happiest and more importantly, of greater value to my friends, family, and fellow humans when I can limit the extra noise and stay focused on living to the best of my abilities. And hopefully dragging others with me along the way.
So I segue from being sad about London to how we all need to be more aware of being alive and taking the utmost advantage of that, no matter what the circumstances happen to be. Surrounding and people change, but you're still you (for the most part) so take the good, absorb enough of the bad that you don't forget it and make good use of it, and move on with living.
