Must be this grey ick weather… or yet another culture shock. In reverse this time!
I am having the hardest time adjusting back to my own country. Too many years defining myself by being a “not” – being the different one, the imposter with barely a little something that is not quite what it should be – to fall back easily into the skin of a local. It should all feel familiar, and to a certain extent it is. Like a childhood dinner favorite that feels just a little too bland to the adult palate. But naturally everything has moved on, so much so that even Proust would have a hard time tracking down his beloved madeleine…
Admittedly it is the first time I move in a hurry, with no particular plan in mind, with no set destination/job/apartment/school waiting for me upon destination. Could that be the reason behind my current sense of dislocation? Or at least a part of the puzzle?
Another deep breath. The sky is so low. I miss the Big Horn mountains in their rosy morning glory. I miss the Seattle skyline from the ferry or driving towards Lake Union or downtown, up or down I-5. I miss Mount Rainier serene in the distance. And yet, it did not feel like the end of the road (well, to be fair maybe Wyoming did a little). I hate these low nondescript clouds that blend together with all the grace of a wet mop. I feel oppressed and my eyes keep tearing up. Another deep breath…
Reboot.
Repeat. The. Mantra.
It’s all about the journey… It’s all about the journey… It’s all about… Maybe one day, I will drum up the courage to actually step into a tattoo parlor and get the journey rune tattooed under my right foot, as I keep promising myself to do. Because, in the end, we are born, we live, we die and it really is all about the journey!
In the meanwhile, changing the title of my blog once again, and rebooting for the 15th time (can it be that many already), really does bite the Big One. Or the Belgian One, as the current case may be!
From the heart of Europe with love 