In a galaxy far, far away.
Of the one, two, maybe three friends who read my liveJournal, I wonder if anyone will see this post? If I only ever log on to read, perhaps others log on only to write?
I haven't even logged on to read in three months. Chances don't look too good then, eh?
Do me a favor - if you read this, throw me a comment.
I'm not sure what effect living abroad has on other people. From what you guys (and I'm referring to *you* three, yes) have told me, it seems your experience was fundamentally different than mine. Maybe it's because I'm on my own, and at a different stage in my life.
Life in Australia has been unbelievably wonderful, although it has little to do with the location. Things have been incredible because I've been taking more action, and gaining more self-confidence than I ever have in such a short period. I can feel myself passing by whole epochs of wisdom.
All that progress can be a little scary, though.
Don't misunderstand: Despite my odd existential crisis, life continuously doles out everything I need, hand over hand. It can't get *enough* of giving me what I need. I barely think about it, and it just shows up. Being in alignment with the universe (or intention/God/laws of physics) makes everything so effortless. It guides me along even when I seem to have the least faith in it. Like the grandma who continues to force food upon you long after you are full, life's generosity has no limits.
Still, as I move forward, things are a little freaky. Being in Australia has made my view of life zoom out a good deal, and many things that were once important don't seem so much anymore. Things like relationships, and I don't just mean the romantic sort.
In Alabama, life for my friends and I was focused on such a microcosm. We had our friendships, what movies we were seeing, our little romantic squabbles, and our schoolwork. Now, all of that seems really... Well, it seems small. These days, my perspective is drawn way back. I look at topics like,
"How much can I realistically accomplish before I die?"
"How do I want to spend my precious little time on Earth?"
"What is the most influential impact I can make that is in alignment with my sense of morality?"
While some of these questions are harrowing, they are also really empowering. You start thinking, "Wow, I think I'm really going to be able to do a lot!" Not only do you think that, but you do it with cautious optimism. This is opposed to uninformed optimism, where the idea might be unfounded.
In my case, I'm considering several plans. One example looks like this:
video game designer -> film maker (this is where I am now) -> musician -> write a book about how to get dream jobs. If it sounds too good too be true, think again. I view this as a very achievable path. In addition, the recent Australian "life training" if giving me the additional confidence needed to pull off such a maneuver.
Personally, this is a gratifying and empowering feeling, but I sometimes wonder where my little microcosm will go. To take up the new lifestyle necessary to live these incredible dreams, I'll be heading further away from our former world of movies, squabbles, pizza, and late night phone calls. That doesn't *necessarily* mean I'll be leaving anyone behind, but it means that those of us who aren't traveling in the same direction might have our relationship distanced. For me, that's a little bit of a scary thought, and it makes me question on some level whether my priorities are in order. We Alabamians place a great deal on the importance of the friend/family unit, and that is our unique strength and weakness in the American world. Of course, now I'm becoming a global citizen, which means I'm no longer just part of that Alabama crowd, and my values are shifting to fit the new mold.
Will we all become those friends who don't really hang out? The ones who just call each other every now and then and catch up? Maybe we'll see each other on our 50th birthday, or at our high school reunion? I don't know. We may remain as close as ever. But, I suspect that on at least a few levels, we are at a time of parting.
With that in mind, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I have for a long time, and although I've never been anything but vocal about it, I want to tell you again in hopes that if we drift apart, you'll have a little extra written proof about my heart's stance on the matter. I can assure you *that* will never change.
I haven't even logged on to read in three months. Chances don't look too good then, eh?
Do me a favor - if you read this, throw me a comment.
I'm not sure what effect living abroad has on other people. From what you guys (and I'm referring to *you* three, yes) have told me, it seems your experience was fundamentally different than mine. Maybe it's because I'm on my own, and at a different stage in my life.
Life in Australia has been unbelievably wonderful, although it has little to do with the location. Things have been incredible because I've been taking more action, and gaining more self-confidence than I ever have in such a short period. I can feel myself passing by whole epochs of wisdom.
All that progress can be a little scary, though.
Don't misunderstand: Despite my odd existential crisis, life continuously doles out everything I need, hand over hand. It can't get *enough* of giving me what I need. I barely think about it, and it just shows up. Being in alignment with the universe (or intention/God/laws of physics) makes everything so effortless. It guides me along even when I seem to have the least faith in it. Like the grandma who continues to force food upon you long after you are full, life's generosity has no limits.
Still, as I move forward, things are a little freaky. Being in Australia has made my view of life zoom out a good deal, and many things that were once important don't seem so much anymore. Things like relationships, and I don't just mean the romantic sort.
In Alabama, life for my friends and I was focused on such a microcosm. We had our friendships, what movies we were seeing, our little romantic squabbles, and our schoolwork. Now, all of that seems really... Well, it seems small. These days, my perspective is drawn way back. I look at topics like,
"How much can I realistically accomplish before I die?"
"How do I want to spend my precious little time on Earth?"
"What is the most influential impact I can make that is in alignment with my sense of morality?"
While some of these questions are harrowing, they are also really empowering. You start thinking, "Wow, I think I'm really going to be able to do a lot!" Not only do you think that, but you do it with cautious optimism. This is opposed to uninformed optimism, where the idea might be unfounded.
In my case, I'm considering several plans. One example looks like this:
video game designer -> film maker (this is where I am now) -> musician -> write a book about how to get dream jobs. If it sounds too good too be true, think again. I view this as a very achievable path. In addition, the recent Australian "life training" if giving me the additional confidence needed to pull off such a maneuver.
Personally, this is a gratifying and empowering feeling, but I sometimes wonder where my little microcosm will go. To take up the new lifestyle necessary to live these incredible dreams, I'll be heading further away from our former world of movies, squabbles, pizza, and late night phone calls. That doesn't *necessarily* mean I'll be leaving anyone behind, but it means that those of us who aren't traveling in the same direction might have our relationship distanced. For me, that's a little bit of a scary thought, and it makes me question on some level whether my priorities are in order. We Alabamians place a great deal on the importance of the friend/family unit, and that is our unique strength and weakness in the American world. Of course, now I'm becoming a global citizen, which means I'm no longer just part of that Alabama crowd, and my values are shifting to fit the new mold.
Will we all become those friends who don't really hang out? The ones who just call each other every now and then and catch up? Maybe we'll see each other on our 50th birthday, or at our high school reunion? I don't know. We may remain as close as ever. But, I suspect that on at least a few levels, we are at a time of parting.
With that in mind, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I have for a long time, and although I've never been anything but vocal about it, I want to tell you again in hopes that if we drift apart, you'll have a little extra written proof about my heart's stance on the matter. I can assure you *that* will never change.