Same ol’ character, just with different backdrops.

I’ve recently been thinking a lot about life-movement, by which I mean physical changes in location throughout ones life.  I have always thought it to be something I enjoy- not only do I love simply visiting different places, but I really love finding the good ones and getting to say I am/was a resident of that place (and all that comes with being a resident, i.e. knowing the ins and outs of the city, generally getting the most out of it, as opposed to a 1-week vacation).

This, of course, explains my recent postponement of law school in exchange for attempting to live in various parts of Europe for this next year.  I feel like my movement, my nomadic state so to speak, is something that holds immense benefit for me, in a number of ways.  Doing this alone, as opposed to a school group or whatnot, promotes my independent growth and proves to me that I am capable of being totally fine just with myself, both in the spiritual, internal, more introverted way, as well as in the logistical, external way. I think it makes me a smarter person, even in the lowest common denominator sense, such as the daily brain activity that is required in surviving and being happy in a new environment.  It’s surely a nice feeling to know a city so well that you can take the backroads everywhere; but it’s a nice challenge to be forced to navigate your way in a very foreign land.. not to mention one whose language you do not speak.  And there’s another point to make- communication challenges, which are probably self-explanatory.  Generally speaking, it’s the challenge and payoff that comes from getting to know and see somewhere new that attracts me so much.  By the time I am 25, I will have moved by myself to live in 6 different cities, including 3 different countries, where I knew little to noone else.  I really like the sound of that, and I know for a fact that my choices to make these moves have had a positive impact on me as a person.

I think this experience also gives me a deeper appreciation for the wonderful things I have in my life, which aren’t typically thought about as profoundly when these things are a part of ones day-to-day life.  Naturally, this includes the smaller, more inconsequential things such as access to CNN, my car, my drums, my preferred hair and makeup products and my very, very passionate preferences for food.  But, most of those items are only applicable to my out-of-country moves.  The main contention in my recent musings on life movement applies to my friends.  Now, before delving into this subject, I’d like to make a disclaimer, because I am sure my mother will be offended as I am not including “family” in this statement.  I assuredly miss my family, but no matter where I move, I will always go back to them, and there is not one shred of doubt that they will always be a part of my life.  It just wouldn’t happen like that.

Friends, however, are more complicated.  I’m not sure whether I’m simply one of the luckiest people in the world, or if I just have a really astounding knack for finding these people, but I am friends with some of the best people in the world.  Not only are they incredible people, but I have found such amazing loyalty in these individuals, and our friendship is highly valued between both of us.  This is where the conflict arises:  I keep moving.  And, it is only natural that these moves, these new introductions of distance and withdrawal of a physically tangible friendship are undoubtedly placing the stability and longevity of my relationships with these people in jeopardy.  I gained friendships with people at Stanford who, in every sense of the word, became my family, and it hurts to not have that whenever I want anymore.  I have people in Austin who I think of as being some of the most incomprehensibly compatible people I’ve ever met in my life.  These are people who enrich my heart, mind, and soul– and from my understanding, this is not something most people have found in more than one or two friends, and that’s considered to be lucky.

So then I think, what the hell am I doing moving away from these people?  Not only am I endangering my relationships with them, but I am flat out depriving myself of happiness in its most basic, true form.  It pains me to think about my Stanford family sometimes, and how much I yearn to have those times back, to go over to any of my best friends’ places and just hang out whenever we wanted.  I’m already finding myself reluctant to think too much about my Austinites.

The thing is, if I keep moving, when am I ever going to have those times back?  And moreover, will I ever find a suitable equivalent in my new location?  There is absolutely no guarantee.

I know there is plenty of reason involved in my life-moves, and plenty about it that makes me happy.  I guess the conflict I am struggling with is, am I depriving myself of something that would make me ultimately happier?  I am coming to understand something I have never fully grasped before: why lots of people stay in the same town for the large majority of their lives.  I am a person who lives for the challenge of the unfamiliar, yet I sometimes think this one major aspect is enough to make me settle down in the depths of the comfortable, soft, warm valley of the known.

Because the truth of the matter is, however much I’ve loved living in Spain or Italy, I am fine after I’ve left.  What’s not as easily compromisable is the fact that parts of my heart still reside in California and Texas, and there is a good chance that I will never get those parts back.

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