I'm no longer a visitor. I live here. When I'm traveling, I rarely stay in one place for more than a few days. I just love exploring, soaking in everything that's new, and moving on to see somewhere else. For a while I still felt like a visitor. I soaked in the new job, the new living space, the new friends, the beautiful accents, the different food, the unique sports, the ancient buildings, and even the novelty of being able to get anywhere I need by foot or rail. Eventually, that novelty wears off and I started settling into a routine. I started making routines, really. I settled into routines for work, for meals, for extra duties, for exercise, and even for regular pub nights. I found myself gravitating to the old routines and habits I had back in Maryland, but they don't always fit. My lessons schedules aren't organized the same, my homework policy can't translate easily, my meals have to coincide with times I'm not used to eating, and my social time doesn't involve football anymore. All of the sudden, the differences that excited me at first were stressing me out. I miss the courses I could plan in my sleep. I miss the students that already knew what to expect from me. I miss Sundays at the Billy Bar.
I miss a lot of things, but I didn't move to England to rebuild the exact same life I had. I have the unique opportunity to remake my life from the ground up. I get to choose what routines I really like and what new ones I've been meaning to try. I can change a lot of little things, and I can even change big things. Moving to a new country has dispelled all doubts I had that big changes are possible. All of the sudden, everything is in play. That was an invigorating realization, but now I'm analyzing every little aspect of my life. Every time I came across something in my life that made me mildly unhappy, the old honors college mantra of "What, therefore, shall I do?" took over my brain. My mind got caught in a feedback loop with way too much thinking going on. I'm not great company when that happens, because I am always thinking about the unhappy things. It's like a carpenter examining a really complex piece of woodwork. He/she doesn't focus on the parts that are fine. They're fine, so move on. He/she focuses on what needs to be sanded, braced, tightened, etc. The focus goes on what needs to be fixed or improved. That's what happens in my head. I want to make myself into a better man, so I look at what I think needs to be fixed or improved. It can be productive, but it can also be depressing. Like an artist that never wants you to see what he/she's painting ("No, it's not done!"), I go into isolation ("No, don't look at me, I'm not done!"). My new friends pried me out of my isolation and helped me see all the good work that I've done over the years. I really needed that.
Sometimes, it's difficult to figure out who you are when you're surrounded by who you were. I've said this before, but now I've got an addendum. Changing where you are doesn't change who you are. As the wise Popeye says, "I am what I am, and that's all that I am." But the beauty of moving is that it's helping me to see more clearly who I am and who I want to be. I've been able to make a huge, positive change in my life, and opening that door has made me see there are far more possibilities in life than I had realized. It's given me a lot to think about, as you can see.
I think best when I'm walking, and I live in a flat area with miles of paths stretching out into farmland. Feel the burn.
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