Five weeks from now I will have moved out of my house in Fitzroy. I will have worked my final day with the wild youth of Melbourne's northern district. I will have packed some things, smiled at my sister, kissed my mother's cheek and held my father's arm. I will be boarding a plane for India, for a new job in a new city surrounded by new people. Five weeks from now.
It was nearly a year ago when I made the first preparatory step toward my imminent adventure. I was concerned with other things and dedicated little thought to how my decisions/actions would affect the landscape of my life. If anything, the last twelve months provide testimony to a separation between the lived trajectory and the torments of conscious thought. We make decisions and move toward outcomes and all the while our heads chase chickens up a tree.
I remember a friend saying that she would be sad if my plan was a success. I remember receiving an email and filling out a form. I remember asking my principal for a reference.
The application was not an easy process. It took time, preparation and sustained effort, and not once did I question my decision. This must be what others speak of, when they know that something is right. When they feel that they are on the right track. When everything "just works".
This sensation was... not a sensation. If Freud is right, that the only true feeling is anxiety (all others are simply variations thereof), then this was the one thing that was free of feeling. With dumb determination I just signed another page and transferred the set amount.
My brother, my sister, and many of our friends have stood before themselves and said "I do".
I have said "I doubt".
"I doubt" myself and all things.
This move to Bangalore? Of course I am worried. But there is little thought and little fear and only quiet anticipation. It is a gentle sense that something is about to change. That soon that which has long been still shall once again be moving, quickly... dancing through the chaos of the night and the honking of the horns.
It was nearly a year ago when I made the first preparatory step toward my imminent adventure. I was concerned with other things and dedicated little thought to how my decisions/actions would affect the landscape of my life. If anything, the last twelve months provide testimony to a separation between the lived trajectory and the torments of conscious thought. We make decisions and move toward outcomes and all the while our heads chase chickens up a tree.
I remember a friend saying that she would be sad if my plan was a success. I remember receiving an email and filling out a form. I remember asking my principal for a reference.
The application was not an easy process. It took time, preparation and sustained effort, and not once did I question my decision. This must be what others speak of, when they know that something is right. When they feel that they are on the right track. When everything "just works".
This sensation was... not a sensation. If Freud is right, that the only true feeling is anxiety (all others are simply variations thereof), then this was the one thing that was free of feeling. With dumb determination I just signed another page and transferred the set amount.
My brother, my sister, and many of our friends have stood before themselves and said "I do".
I have said "I doubt".
"I doubt" myself and all things.
This move to Bangalore? Of course I am worried. But there is little thought and little fear and only quiet anticipation. It is a gentle sense that something is about to change. That soon that which has long been still shall once again be moving, quickly... dancing through the chaos of the night and the honking of the horns.
