Moving is hard. Everything about it is hard. I thought I was a pro at it. I’ve moved around more times than anyone I know. I learned how to fight against feeling unwilling and how to wrangle with nostalgic based regrets to repeatedly come to the unromantic discovery that: Here, is where we all are.
Growing up, at the brunt of hating my parents for moving me around through every year of high school, my friend Lou would always tell me, “Wherever you go, there you are.” While I thought myself to be a bit of a Taoist, even as a young teen, the traditional and simplistic Taoist concept caught me off guard more than a few times in the years that followed – long after Lou stopped giving me advice and I got over the fact that moving around so much in high school was anything other than a good thing in the end.
I’ve simplified it to my own, more determined and a little bitter sounding: Streets and people.
I’ve said it more than a few times since meeting Stark, and definitely a lot lately. “The more I move around, the more I realise… It’s just streets and people.”
And, that’s the truth.
Therein lies the concept of, “Wherever you go, there you are.” The thing that makes or breaks a place resides deep in the heart of who we are as individuals.
Kids that start fights and are sent to the middle of nowhere with some simple life Uncle to teach them better, won’t change because of the place or the people. They’ll change when they are ready, and never entirely for good. We all act and react based on an experience. It is how we learn as human beings. Just the same, we are all liars. We are all lovers. We have all done these things that, to some degree, stick with us. It isn’t about repentance or belief. It is about who we are; how we are built, and what lies just behind the streets and people.
It is the same concept that goes alongside those cliche truths that, “A marriage doesn’t fix anything…” Big decisions of all kinds don’t intrinsically change us for good. If we are lucky, it delays our demons. If we are blessed, we are aware of the delay and we do everything we can to siphon and deal with life on pause.
Wherever you go, there YOU are…
I have brought myself to Sydney. How could I not? I’m here aren’t I?
I have brought with me my greatest hopes, my ideals, my plans, my dreams, and my intentions. Just the same, I have brought with me my tendency to focus so much on trying to make life easier around me, that I disregard anything happening within. And in the end, it is harder after all. In the end, I get left with my own overdose of “told you so” and a harsh resentment toward feeling as though I have wasted my time working backward. It is like trying to wash a car in a rainstorm when life would just be easier if I got in the car, stayed warm a while, and noticed the beautiful rain.
Feeling that way doesn’t make me unique or special. It makes me human and most certainly makes me a woman. Every woman I know ends up outside herself until she’s beside herself… If you know what I mean.
Moving to 2601, back in SLC, was a big decision that took me months to really commit to. In the end, I spent 3 years there – a whole year longer than ANY place I have lived since the age of 14.
While I could let go and move on with the best of them, I spent years cycling and recycling the same basic locations, almost unable to break the mold until about six years ago when I at least decided I would give Utah a fair chance. If it wasn’t for Stark, I wouldn’t have stayed. With him, I found a groove. I settled into a routine. I looked forward to the way he spent his every day – naming no plans at all and still, doing exactly the same things week after week. I had never been so consistent, even in my work.
It is something that has led me to question what “home” exactly is. When we get homesick, what is it we are missing?
Without even a second thought, I could say that any homesickness I have felt in the past has always been due to longing for a connection I no longer felt I had – whether that be how home suddenly felt unfamiliar when my Mom died or how heartbreaking it felt to leave behind some summer romance for a new opportunity. In both regards, it hurt to my very core.
Coming to Sydney was easy knowing the only thing that could ever cause me to feel that way about leaving, was coming with me. Everyone else… Everything else… Could be visited, returned to, brought over, or rebuilt in some way. That’s not to say that I don’t desperately miss certain things at time – our routine and the people in it. Life is just easier knowing there’s nothing you’ll have to face alone, for now.
It’s just that moving is a devil in itself. A month ago we moved here and now we are moving again. The move is small but moves of all sizes bring great challenges. This devil knows how to get to me. It knows how to get to all of us in that it somehow causes a doubt in the one thing you hope for or rely on. For me, it causes me to see things differently and a bit more upside down than anything else down here on the bottom side of the globe. It causes me to actually believe, I’m very much alone in how I feel or thing about any of this. It distorts the way I feel about watching reruns on television or how much it annoys me when a movie is playing and everyone is on their phone, not paying attention just the same as it seems that nothing offends me more these days than having to repeat myself. Repeating myself just comes down to one of two things, and I’m not a big fan of either of them. It’s getting upset about something and no longer being able to vent to a friend when the one you’re with doesn’t quite get that you’re trying to have a conversation here. No one else gets to fill in the blanks to make life run smoothly – where having a best friend, that long time trusted guy friend, and a boyfriend adds up to one perfect person you compartmentalise all your thoughts to respectively.
Streets and people. It’s always the same. But starting over… Well, that always starts with you.
Wherever I’ve gone, I’m here now.
Wherever I am going, here I am.
I have to start over. I have to do better. I have to work from the inside out again because it all starts with me no matter how many new streets I walk over or how many new people I meet.