My dream came true a few months ago, right around Thanksgiving: I got a job in France.
Getting the visa to go over there hasn’t been as smooth as hoped for; I lost one plane ticket a few weeks ago and have been anxiously awaiting news. I have a place waiting for me, a little room of my own. I have friends over there, eager to reconnect. I’ve started training for this job, despite the delayed start date.
I thought I might go within the next week.
Turns out it might be another month ish.
Maybe I will start working for the affiliate company in New York while waiting for the visa.
I don’t know. No one does, right now.
It’s such a blessing in a way to let the anticipation build, and really appreciate the change I’m about to make, and to get more time with family and friends. And maybe have less winter clothes to pack.
That said, there’s a lot of confusion and it’s not easy to be patient. I don’t even know if I should get another month gym membership. Trying to create any kind of routine seems futile- as it always is, in the scheme of things.
This is “real life.” There will never be a moment where I can truly see everything laid out in front of me in a straight line.
Even if I think I can, i’s only an illusion.
Before I formulated consciously the wish to live in France, I argued with a wise guide I happened across on my path. I wondered what I would be missing in terms of a stable life, and building relationships and identity.
He told me, having lived in Paris for 20 years, an accumulation of contracs and decisions that kept him there a few months at a ime, a few years, rather than some master plan, that stability is an illusion.
He was right.
And the moment is sweet somehow. Hopeful, full of anticipation, a golden moment like any truly lived moment.
Not sure what awaits me on the other side of the ocean, not sure what I’ll get up to here, and I have to admit
This is life, this is my life, and I love it.
Wishing you the best on all your journeys.