I’ve been in Atlanta for a week and a half now. I have yet to make a friend, work up the courage to go to a meet up by myself, and figure out any way to make money. I know it’s ONLY been a week and a half, but it leaves me feeling lost and a little hopeless. I flip flop between the perspective that my life is super cool, and the perspective that my life is sad. Picture it: mid-twenties female sets out on the adventure of a lifetime to meet up with her boyfriend in Atlanta. She spends her days practicing yoga, writing, and sipping coffee at various cute cafes in the city. OR…. mid-twenties female moves to Atlanta to be with boyfriend with no prospects of a job and no friends, spending her days wandering aimlessly between coffee shops, with little to no sense of purpose. Take your pick.
I’ve traveled before, I’ve been away from home for consecutive periods of time, I’ve spent my days “wandering aimlessly”, and I’ve most certainly spent consecutive months unemployed. So what is it about ATL that makes me feel somewhat purposeless in comparison to the other trips I’ve taken? Perhaps it’s the expectation that I should be doing something while I’m here? Or perhaps it’s the expectation of myself that I will finally push myself to publish something I’ve written, or make even a single penny off Ryan and I’s podcast? I’m not too sure… but I do know that it feels different.
The first time Ryan and I travelled, I had my first taste of culture shock. I remember breaking down and crying while in Spain because I felt so overwhelmed by the language barrier, the different food, the change in lifestyle, the heat, and being in and among a culture that was so much different to everything I knew at the time. I remember missing my friends and feeling sad when I saw photos of my friends together doing something fun that I knew I would have been at if I had been there. I know that what I felt in Spain a few years ago, and what I’m feeling right now is what society has deemed as homesick. But, it feels different than it did when I was in Europe years and years ago. Is that because I’m different? Or because my situation is different? And, why can’t I just be okay with this idea that I’m homesick and just leave it at that?
The thing about feeling homesick for me is that it leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Right now, this aftertaste is the ever so familiar, guilt. I feel guilty for missing the mountains when I have hills and valleys and forests and mountains to explore here. I feel bad for missing my local yoga studio when I’ve got 2 super cool yoga studios within walking distance of my house. I feel bad for missing work when I am so very fortunate to have the money to hang out in Atlanta for a couple of months without working. I feel bad for missing my friends when there over 6 million strangers around me that have the potential to be my friends. I feel guilty for feeling homesick. Despite how cool my life may be here in Atlanta, I seem to keep dwelling on the past and how my life used to be.
While hiking in Kennesaw State Park this past weekend, I was chattering away to Ryan about travelling India and Asia and maybe Africa in 2016–2017 after his work term is finished in Atlanta. He stopped, turned to me and asked, “what are you talking about?”. I stammered and thought about it before answering, “I’m planning fun adventures for the future!” He set off to continue walking, stating matter-of-factly, “I just want to be here right now.” It was in this moment that I realized that not only have I been mourning for my life in Canmore, I’m also dreaming of the future and of what will be. I’m stuck somewhere between the past and the future, and that place is definitely not in the present.
So what I’ve learned over the last few days is that it’s hard to be where you are when you’re not really there. How can you be in the present moment when you’re feeling sad about the past, or up in the clouds, dreaming about the future? Feeling homesick is perfectly natural when you make a big move, and I think it’s important to be true to those feelings, instead of pretending like they aren’t there. It’s also important not to dwell on the past, especially if you’re in a position like I am where you chose to be where you are right now. I chose to move from Canmore. I chose to move to the southern US and explore for a couple of months. I chose to quit my job and take a risk. Now, I’m going to make the choice to stop dwelling on the past, and to stop dreaming of the future, and simply be where I am right now….. in Atlanta, exploring, drinking coffee, practicing yoga, and hopefully meeting some awesome new people.