Facing challenges

I remember my first months (hell, even over a year) in Europe.
It was my first time living abroad and everything was new to me.
Very exciting but also very, very scary.
I remember how difficult it was to actually decide where to go next when I was in a really bad situation in Italy. It was the worst place, but I just couldn't force myself to leave. All my plans foiled and I left with the only choice of quickly making new ones, on my own. It is funny how a person who would brag about being good at improvising would be scared to do so. I spent over a week postponing the decision making, and got lucky that external forces pushed me forward (in a very bad way, but it was a very good thing after all).
I guess in a way I was a bit worried about doing things alone. Which is a bit absurd, as I moved to another continent completely alone, without any guarantees, not knowing if I would be able to recognise my Italian citizenship, find a job, a place to live, manage life with my very broken English.
Then I moved to London and I met this fascinating Polish guy. He was getting jobs here and there, not worried about anything. So confident, so knowledgeable. He would work less than he could because he knew his way around taxes. He would travel to distant parts of the planet putting to it less effort than someone would put to have breakfast.
One day I asked him how he do that, how could he be so calm when he was about to take a flight to another continent, stay in the middle of nowhere, and fly around in a hot air balloon. The whole idea behind it sounded too scary for me. Way too many "what ifs" made me anxious even though I wasn't the one doing all of that.
On the first few months I got two tempting invitations: to work for the government, as psychologist, in a town (one for each time I was summoned) I liked and it was quite close from friends and family, to do just 20h a week (meaning having time to live and work on my side projects), getting a very interesting payment. I just couldn't decide. That broke me. My life was in shambles: living in the worst hostel around, starving on a daily basis (I lost 10kg), sharing a room with another 14 people who prevented me from getting much sleep, having basically just 4-5h available daily to get any sleep, working seven days a week, in up to four jobs at the same time, spending almost four hours a day just commuting, heartbroken, no friends, in dire need of my own space. And this opportunity comes. To rent my own house, have my plants, have my pets, do my experiments and projects on my time off, being in a cute little town where it was safe and people seemed friendly... It certainly broke me down. Right before the decision I cried, like a little baby the first time it feels hungry or misses his/her mother. I couldn't hold the tears and started the scene in the hostel lobby. I rushed out and a guy I hanged out with some times followed me to talk, but I managed to lose his track. Sitting on a dark spot of the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette, accepting my tears, I finally managed to make my decision: I was going to stay.
And I am glad I did. I often question myself if it was the right decision, but I suppose I would always ask myself that no matter the choice made.
Things improved but not enough, and slowly but steady they took their tool. I was getting depressed with the crappy lifestyle I was leading, but I was saving money and didn't have to worry about the unknown, so I kept postponing changing my life. Again.
As in the past, life managed to make the decision for me, and I simply had to leave. So I bought a one way ticket to Berlin. Adamant to buy a car and just travel around. Turns out it wasn't that simple, but I quite enjoyed my time there.
I tried to leave once, only to realise a few hours later that I wasn't prepared enough. The idea was camp around and I didn't even have a way to charge my phone. How the hell I planned to find my way to places?
Second time I left I was terrified. I was going to drive in Europe for the first time, go to another completely unknown town, and... and then what?
But I went, and all was fine.
The day I should leave I was feeling so insecure I decided to spend the night in that town again - in my car.
And so I went from place to place and the fear slowly started to fade.
I lived in Czech Republic, I lived in Italy again, I lived in Ireland, I lived in Norway, I lived in Switzerland, I am now in Bulgaria, and I visited a bunch of other countries.
People say I'm brave. I'll have to disagree.
When I apply for a job in a town or country different than the one I am at I often hear (or read) that it would be too risky and they rather not even interview me. Feels like telling a kid who is a good runner that he should try to crawl - it is too dangerous!
Some friends feel nervous when I share with them details about my life or what I might do next.
You get used to it. You get this weird confidence that even when things are falling apart, nobody is answering your e-mails, your time is running out, you have no idea what to do or where to go, you are still very calm - you know you will sort it out and things will fall into place.
You can get TOO used to it, and I only realised it now.
Yesterday I was catching up with a friend I haven't talk for a good while (the case of most people - I am terrible at keeping in touch, but I never forget the ones I like...time doesn't pass for me when it comes to them) and I told her about my last six months. It was quite eventful in a way (left a country I was living, lived in another two, and visited another three), and she seemed impressed, she said it was cool. But I don't feel it.
I don't know when or where, but I lost it. I go to places and I don't bother seeing it all - I know I can always return. I go to new countries and I don't bother about seeing the capital or main cities. A country is just a country. Everywhere is very different, but in a way it is also all the same. You see the good and the bad, and you start to realise that this or that country isn't so much worse than the others - you just don't know the other places well enough.
Which leads me to the conclusion that every place is amazing and shitty at the same time. You just have to figure out what are the bad sides you are willing to put up with, and the good sides you are unwilling to forfeit, and try to find the best match. In a way the same goes for relationships: there is no perfect person, just a person you can tolerate the flaws and you just can't imagine life without their qualities.
I guess I became a cynic, as I was called in more than one occasion. Or maybe I just became like that Polish guy.
Maybe that's just the natural way things go when you see behind the curtains. You no longer see the play, you see actors doing their jobs, and life loses a bit of it's magic.
But I don't think that is a bad thing, actually. It just sets you free from all those things and allow you to see a bit farther, to see what's behind that hill. And, trust me, it might not be as easy, but you can certainly find things to be fascinated about, and trying to figure them out can be even more magical then when you used to be a kid who believed Santa Claus was real.




Posted by Ricardo Ceratti.