kenjisan

...all up in a cloud of smoke...

For my entire life, I’ve lived in the space between “great and monumental” events. When I was born, I dwelled in that limbo that exists for pre-schooled children. Here, I learned to walk on two legs, to communicate verbally with those around me in a semi-intelligent fashion, and to sit on a toilet and take a crap properly. In school, my time could always be measured between clear beginnings and ends: the individual days, the individual school quarters/semesters, the individual school years. Whatever new beginning I started out on, there was always a clear cut ending in sight. At the end of summer, I had what was then called “Christmas Break.” At the end of that, I had summer.

As time went on, so did this pattern. Elementary school meant middle school on down the road. Middle school was just the step in the progression towards high school, then college. Even college had its terminus in “the real world,” which didn’t necessarily mean a job, but more of an end to education.

And in the wilderness that was the real world, I started imposing my own clearly stated goals in my steady progression to somewhere. First, London, England. In London, England, I knew that eventually, I’d find my way back home, most likely DC, USA. Once back home, I floated aimlessly for a few months or so before a new direction was sighted, that being New Zealand. From then on—two years and counting—I’ve been living in that metaphorical halfway house between One Thing and Another. What happens after Another wasn’t really my concern. It would be different. It would be an adventure. And it would be there. When it was time.

Well, things change. Of course they do. Life is unpredictable, blah, blah. I’ve read it a dozen or so times in a dozen or so different forms, all bundled nicely enough to fit into a fortune cookie.

But now, for the first time in my entire life (and I say this with great solemnity and very little exhilaration), there is no clear end in sight. I’m left with vague impressions, things looming on the other side of the thick cloud of smoke that once was my New Zealand. Good things, for sure, but hazy. Murky. Uncertain. Even scary.

How do you people live like this???

I’m not one for developing any career goals, or five-year plans. I can admire those who do, even envy them, but I don’t think I’m built that way or something. Yet at the same time, I can’t not work towards something—I don’t want to live in the halfway house forever! I have this itch for something new. I wrote about it here, and again, here.

I’m not a go-go-go type of person. Everyone who knows me should know that. Yet they also know that I’m the dreamer, and I hope they know that I wish I were the traveler. Or maybe the experiencer” Definitely not the do-nothing-er.

So here I am, in the vapor that was my “plans,” (quote, unquote). Is this what they call “treading water”? I suppose things could be worse. I still have my friends, my family, my job. Much like the time spent in the earlier years (i.e. learning to take a crap), I suppose there is much to be gleaned from this experience. But for the meantime, if I appear bummed at times, it’s probably because I’m feeling bummed; and if I’m listless, it’s probably because I’m feeling listless.

If my life so far has taught me anything, it's to cope with change. Whether I've learned to do this well is debatable, but I think I've done fairly well. Losing sight of my next change isn't exactly the change I was anticipating, but hey, a life experience is a life experience, and in the end, who am I to complain about that?