Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they shall inherit the (truth) earth. Beatitudes
Today filled with hope I read a blog post about an Indian woman who has chosen to live without a permanent physical home and to change countries and or beds every few weeks or months, and to own just a bit more than what fits in her backpack.
It sounded paradiasical to me, like that feeling of freedom I have been craving. And she makes her living travel blogging and other entrepreneurial stuff. Living life completely on her own terms, within the limits of the material resources available to her.
The past few weeks have been tough for me. I have been considering looking for another job, which has been the only really stable thing in my life for the past three years, and for better or for worse has been my rock, the only thing that hasn’t changed. It’s the only full time job I’ve ever held for more than 7 months.
I also know I have to find a new apartment because my landlady wants to sell the one I have, which caused me such anguish I almost wanted to move heaven and earth to buy it. It is the only place I have lived as an adult for longer than 15-16 months, the only bed I’ve slept in that long besides the one at my parents’ house. It came furnished and it’s not really my stuff, but man, it does feel like home and I am so happy when I see my metro station.
And then, I had that special feeling of loving my life in the transient moment that I had when I was a student here. I guess that’s the official moment my depression ended. Boy, I was happy, and felt like I was home, and meant to stay, although I had perhaps in the back of my awareness i would have to leave my apartment in the next year.
This after a gym session that had left me entirely wiped but so grateful for the community and for the fact that finally, for the first time in my 28 years, I no longer feel ashamed of my body, I’m proud of it as it is today, Which doesn’t mean I won’t try to get healthier and fitter, but it does mean I can be genuinely happy for myself and where I am and how far i’ve come.
About four years ago my first trip to India had already taken place, and I was still missing Paris and my boyfriend and depressed I gave up a once in a lifetime opportunity to live in Paris. I also filled in my visa request truly believing i’d never get antoher chance to get to india. And now, four years later, i can’t wait to go to India, and leave paris for a little while. In fact there are times when I wonder if I will leave of my own accord one of these days.
But then, today, it just hit me so hard. Yes, I love my little routines, my favorite lebanese sandwich place, the bookstores i particularly love to browse in, all of it. And the idea of being a digital nomad and leaving it all behind just hurt. Working for the amazing company i work for, i have a fair bit of vacation time and in a few short years, I could go to many of the places on my ever expanding bucket list.
And yes, living in Paris has given me a taste for remote places close to nature and traditional culture which I never preferred before living in the world’s greatest city. I do vacation in Paris’ opposite in a way, and yet, it doesn’t mean I love Paris any less. Nor does the fact I love where I live diminish my wanderlust. For a time, I truly believed it would go away as I got happier, but as the case has occured, it seems to have only gotten stronger. As I fantasized about taking a year off, or even three weeks, i realized just how muh I would deeply miss paris. Not that it’s not a reason for doing it, but that yes, I have more reaosn to stay than perhaps I really imagined, and they are very salient ones I migh tnot have realized before.
So anyway I finally realized that life is the train and not the station, and buying a piece of property to save myself from moving house a million times and an attempt at premature identity closure, is not such a great idea or a particularly helpful one. Life will continue to change, and that’s a good thing!
I dont even necessarily need a cabin in the mountains to call my own in retirement, but even if I did have one, it wouldn’t matter. Life is the train and not the station.
Everythign we have is on loan. One day, we will all be called in to give up all that we have ever known and acquired, every accomplishment, every love. Not of it can be sure ot make it past the grave, al the physical achivements even more so. all we have is our fleeting, ephemeral memories, but then, that’s gone to- and all anyone ever had was the present moment. And that’s all any of us will ever have, despite all our plans, dreams, and schemes. Really.
So I don’t need to sell all my belongings or give them to good will, give up my stable job for a freelance lifestyle, choose not to marry or date in a commitment relation ship because people are never truly owned.
I can appreciate the things that are on lend, and I can share them with others. I hcan share my stories, I can share what I think of what you study, to an extent.
I have my stories, for the mmoment, while memory is kind.
And even if I commit them to hard drive someone in fifty years or so will be charmed by how quaint things were back in the day, My memories doesn’t have to be my prison. I can walk freely, freely.
And now the point of all of us s that life is sweet.
And we are just here from the party, and aftterward we don’t know how we are getting home.
Love you all