Holding your own
I’ve done it many times before. Oh, its a piece of cake for me! I’ll get up tomorrow morning, mix up a few things, and Voila! There it will be, my desired Outcome! I’m confident. I’m good. I’m working to be better. I’m happy. I’m content. I want to move to better things, I can move to better things.
I leave a place. I decided to join a place. I’m happy. I chose well. Its gonna be an interesting adventure, i’ll enjoy the journey’s graph.
I’m at the new place, its BIG, its beautiful. Its what I wanted. Maybe better than what I wanted.
I’m Oh so confused! This is all so new. Intimidating! The first doubts creep in; Can i do this? Am I meant to be here?!
You’re an intelligent kid. You can do this. I brace myself up. Yes, the mornings are torturous; I tear myself awake from the strange world of helpless half-dreams, with the lingering feeling of being out of place, only to start hyperventilating. I learn to wake up early to calm myself down. I learn to embrace the cool morning air during the long journey and let it relax my senses.
I enter the new place and feel like colossal gates closed on all logical, normal modes of life. I desperately try to look for my life like I knew it, draw connections, find even the smallest similarities. These things keep me going. They give me strength to wake up the next day.
Things settle. I settle. I even get some small successes. I change, I accept, I try to like the place.
But the place is not so accomodating. Its relentless. It rites of passage are far too many. It follows a system guarded by far too many sentinels. So even though you feel Initiated into the system, you’ve not even been Inducted.
I feel lost again. The same questions resurface; Can I do this?
New questions emerge. Was I ever meant to do this? Was my decision wrong?
But the worst are the realisations. I was not like this. I was a happy person. I lived life, and loved it. I was good at what I did. I got up with the content, self assured air of a Confident person. Yes, I was confident. I was satisfied. I aimed high and had the conviction to achieve the heights.
Now I’m just tired. I’m tired of being lost, intimidated, dissatisfied, unsuccessful. I’m tired of being in this new, unfamiliar place. I’m tired of the constant search for meaning in this life. I’m tired of the ‘What am I doing?’ and ‘Why am I doing this?’. Cause I don’t have an answer to them. I’m tired of not being me. I miss me.
So, what is the solution? The place is unfeeling, even resentful. Its nothing like I’ve seen before, I don’t understand it. Expecting it to change will be unhelpful and naive. Change can only be brought to dynamic things, things that are capable of adaptation. I may be tired, shaken sick by the shock of the new place being so incomprehensible. But I am capable of change. I wanted this place to embrace me as i am. But it was not to be so. So, adapting, adjusting, doing things i never thought of, the way i never thought of. That will be the order of the day.
This may be the only lesson I learn here. That new places can be hard, unforgiving, and disagreeable to change. They can change you so much you forget what you were. They put you in unimaginable situations, unarmed. Does that mean I’ll lose? Does that mean I become a stoic spectator to my own life? No. I will change, cause I can. I’m better than the place. I will change, on my own terms. I will conquer this. I will build a new life, better than the old one I knew. I will be me again. A better me.
It may have been one lesson, but it was one hell of a lesson. I came, I saw. But I HELD MY OWN.