Live it like you mean it.
‘Wow, that’s so brave’, she remarked to me, after I told her I moved here only knowing one or two people. I chuckled to myself, thinking – ‘oh, if only you knew!’ I decided to not share all those times that I felt scared, felt less than courageous, in the last 10 months.
But what happened? Was I the same person who arrived at a bus station in India and picked where I was going next by getting on the next departing bus? Was I the same person who learned to venture out and trust myself? It was hard to believe, sitting at home, on my couch, feeling…. well, frankly, pretty far from brave.
For some reason, things feel different here. Perhaps, it is that I am not a traveler anymore. This is my country, and now, my home. Perhaps it is that NYC is not known as one of the friendlier places in the world (though, full disclosure, I don’t find it that rough either – people have the capacity to be friendly. They just choose not to be most of the time).
But, whatever that difference is, the fact remains that I don’t feel as brave as I did when I was traveling the world. And when you don’t have friends in a new place, getting yourself out there is very effortful. Tiring, even. And so, I found, over the months since I moved here – I lost that courage. It was sometimes easier to stay in with a good book, watch House of Cards on netflix.
Yet, I remember what it felt like to be out there, to explore, and have that freedom. So, I am going to dedicate the next few months/time to making that effort. To re-aquatinting myself with that freedom and joy and exploration. To being the traveler – but this time with a home (that no one is puking in) and way more clothes and shoes.
So, here is to learning to be a travler in my own home, wherever that home is – and finding courage.