I'm about to break a record. The longest I've lived in one country was seven years. When I was younger I didn't have a choice. I moved when my mom moved. Then, as an adult I moved when I got what I call "the itch" to move. The itch is a mental restlessness. It starts very slow, very faint. If you're new to the itch you won't notice it in the beginning. Not until it grows until a real, serious itch. A feeling that you can't resist but scratch. And the scratch is: looking for other places to move to. Doing research, taking a trip, looking for jobs online, researching rent prices and more. And more. Which actually makes the itch worse. It makes it unbearable, until you're ready to move even without a job or a place to live in (which I don't recommend). I haven't had the itch in 8 years. I'm actually proud to say this so I'm gonna repeat myself (normally I hate repeating myself), I haven't had the itch in 8 years! In August I will be living in Curaçao for 8 years, officially, because I was back on the island in February 2009 but had to go back to Barcelona for a month to pack. If you ask me, I think a huge part of not getting itchy has been buying a house. I call it my anchor. It keeps me from drifting off to Itchland. Although being a third culture kid I always have my eyes open for life in other countries. But now, without getting itchy. And there's more to this record-breaking milestone in my life. I want to keep this itchless life. I don't want to move to another country if I don't have to. No epic life for me, please. There. I said it. My life wasn't any kind of epic before, but it was restless. When I look around I keep seeing people trying to have/living epic lives, having epic meals, taking epic trips to epic countries where they meet epic people who tell epic stories. As if being epic is the new "I have succeeded in life". More power to you if you want that. I will epically enjoy your stories while I'm living my boring life. And there was no sarcasm there. I really will and do enjoy your epic stories, if they come from a genuine place. My boring life will be me living in a nice house with a nice yard, and some day with someone to share life with. I'll get groceries at the same supermarket. Get gas at the same gas station. Drive on the same roads to the same job for years and years and years. No one will know me, except maybe the people at the supermarket and the gas station, and I will know no one, except maybe the people at..... yeah, you get the point. I have been living a pretty unepic life for a few years already and I think I'm getting good at it. The people at the supermarket and gas station know my face, but I see them wondering about my story. Maybe they don't know yet, that a story is just a story. I just smile and say hi. For the next few years I'm finding the bigness in the small things. The hugeness in the micro. I would like to read and paint and go to the beach and work in the yard or decorate the house. I would like to spend time with friends. Have true connections with interesting people. Encourage more kindness around me. I would like to have enough time to disconnect as well. Be by myself in peace, under my rock. I want to explore the farthest and darkest corners of myself and, if he will let me, of my special life-sharer. Epically boring. Yeah... I'm so looking forward to that unepic life!
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SpiralsIn about 5 days I will complete my 40th spiral around the sun.
I have taken a whole year to get used to saying forty, by replying 'I'm almost 40' when someone asks me my age. Which at the same means forfeiting my last chances of saying thirtynine. And even that. Sacrificing my last thirtysomething year, did not help. Yesterday it hit me hard. The complete ridiculousness of having to say forty. Not believing your own age is weird. I know I don't look my age. And I know I don't feel my age. But with every cell of my body not believing my own age was a new level of weird. It's a twilight zone I didn't know existed inside myself. But enough about the shock. Let's do something else. This blog is called Spirals. Spirals are pretty. And they're the fabric that is our universe. Look at DNA. Now look at a galaxy. Now look at a wave. Now look at how the planets move around the sun. Now look at shells. Now try walking on a straight line when you're drunk. See? Spirals everywhere. Spirals are not the same as circles. They do move in circles, but go a level up. Or down. Depending on which way you're facing. More than 10 years ago I started kinda blogging on MySpace. Then, in 2007 I started writing a book. Then in October 2015 I wrote a guest blog for T'Aki Mi Ta Beba (TMTB). Many people liked it. Shared it. Posted it everywhere. Even today I was approached by a newspaper. They want to publish it. I asked them if they knew it was a blog from 2015. They don't care. Go ahead I said. They will they said. I continued blogging weekly with TMTB. Then I stopped blogging. 2 weeks ago. I needed a break. And some time to hide under my rock. I thought it would take at least a few months before I felt like blogging again. But my skin is turning yellow here, underneath my trusty old rock. My eyes watery. And my writing juices apparently are still flowing. Because here I am. Again. Writing. About nothing. Yet. Spirals are everywhere. |
Photos used under Creative Commons from julian_fern, Humphrey King