I haven’t been able to sit still since the day I was born. At first, it wasn’t by choice, but then my parents’ devotion to moving, changing, traveling, rubbed off on me.
So, really “change” was not the same to me as my friends’ definitions of it. I was happy moving to a new neighborhood or a new country, excited to meet new people and ready to harmonize with my new chapter in life.
Within time, I realized that it wasn’t enough to keep moving every few years at some unknown time or traveling to another country every few months. I needed some sort of consistency too. It was this “change” that was my consistency. It was me who needed the rearrange the habits of life. And it wasn’t enough to think that, yeah, at some point I would leave, check out a new culture and make my little mark on the new piece of land I happened to step on.
I need to know right now that next week, I will have tickets to Thailand, a place I’ve dreamed of going to for years. That I won’t be in the exact same familiarity, at least for a short period of time. I need to modify a few thoughts and then come back to the habits.
If you take a look at my apartment, not much will change for a long time. Perhaps some new art pieces will appear on shelves or walls, but the furniture won’t be rearranged. It’s when you look deeper that you’ll realize how often I need habits to change. For example, my folders. Folders in my cabinets, folders in my outlook, that all changes. I rename things, realphabetize, reorganize and it all changes. Take a look deeper. I’ve reshuffled, reprioritized, reconditions thoughts so that I could have emerge to the next chapter.
Now, to the psycho-babble consumer, this may sound as though I’m running away from something. Yes, I am-I’m running from my own habits, but only to fulfill a dream in order to continue my goals in life. I like to learn another perspective by experiencing other people’s habits in other lands.
And who wouldn’t hustle to new lands and new cultures? I seem to forget myself. I am a traveler.