I like being uncomfortable. I like the unknown. I hate the monotony of comfort.
How can anyone learn about themselves if they are in a constant state of repetition? Going about the daily grind, sipping your cup of coffee, having to be around the same people, same place all the time.
I think I’ve romanticized my future travels but have also placed realistic expectations. The last 2 weeks have been especially hard. I’ve been a bit bipolar and manic. Trying to make sure everything is set for when I leave Washington. There is a slight chance I may not be able to actually leave the country, but at this time… It’s a waiting game and I probably won’t know for sure until I hit New York. Regardless of this news, I get into these temporary highs of excitement and build up. I go from unclear and foggy to moments of clarity thinking “this is happening and I don’t know what’s gong to happen, but it’s going to be amazing.”
I’m uncomfortable, but it’s good. Its good because it’s helping me grow as a person and learn more about myself. I’m happy to know that I’m doing something different, something for me.
Speaking of uncomfortable, my slight bipolar personality has been keeping my life interesting. I have signed up for random classes doing things I don’t normally do like: kickboxing and joining some random REI group to go hiking and saving the forest. I’ve also got into the habit of awkwardly talking to strangers more and in turn, easily making friends and going on adventures. For me, at least the introvert in me, these are crazy uncomfortable situations. I’m preparing myself for the most uncomfortable time in my life, moving abroad for a bit to a country I know little about and don’t speak the language. It’s thrilling and maybe a bit flighty.
So… It’s late and I’m tired but here are some quotes from Alice in Wonderland that I think are relevant to end the night with:
How puzzling all these changes are! I’m never sure what I’m going to be, from one minute to another.
I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.
I’m afraid I can’t explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?
In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.