January was cold and miserable.
It wasn't just the temperature that made it seem this way. Something in the air had not only myself, but plenty of my friends feeling down. I can blame it on the fact that I'm Virgo and if I'm not doing something productive, I feel like I'm failing. The truth, though, is that sometimes staying in one place for too long can ruin someone.
I've always lived my life traveling, living out of a bag. Between Girl Scout camp and a split family, I was never rested in one place for long. This adapted slowly into a lifestyle that I'm sure plenty of people can relate to.
Home isn't a place, it's a feeling.
So, when I found myself in New York City (of all places) for too long, I felt antsy. I felt stuck. I felt boredom without actually have a reason to be bored. Living in New York City means that if you feel bored, you're made to feel crazy. You can never run out of things to do and places to see here.
Except, there's this weird and abstract comfort you find from sitting on a plane or a train. If you're not the type of person to fall in love with travel over and over again, then I can never explain this feeling to you. It's the deep melancholy you feel as all your worries fade away in the rearview mirror as you begin a road trip. It's the feeling of flight under your metaphoric wings as you feel a new memory, a new story on the horizon.
Before I moved to New York, I blamed my hometown for this feeling of "stuck". I think everyone who listened to The Wonder Years on repeat gets what I mean. It's this feeling that all your problems are from where you live and they'll just be solved if you were anywhere else. Except, as an adult, I've learned complacency can come from anywhere and it's up to you to fight it.
Now that I've been on my own for a while, I realized that traveling is what keeps me sane. It doesn't mean I don't love New York and all of the endless possibilities. It means that I need to leave and bring back to this place a new perspective every so often. That's the great thing about being here-- everyone's always bring something new to the conversation.
This January, though, things were so different. Classes were on break and after I visited my hometown for a few days (and quickly wanted out), I returned to New York City.
There were no tours to follow, no bands to fall for, and certainly no adventures to be had, especially when I was b-r-o-k-e. (By that, I mean just saving up to go to Italy lol.)
It's weird because I complain when I'm busy that I'm anxious and overworked, but too much time for relaxation and it turns to isolating contemplation. So many people asked me when my next journey was, but I just didn't know. I went from hopping on a plane to London to see a boyband to staring blankly out my dorm window, nothing made much sense.
I have no solution to this issue either. At this point, it's just a matter of waiting. However, the point I'm trying to make is: January sucks.
We all want it to be this miracle time after New Year's Day, but it's not. If you're like me, and I think many people are, you need to always be on the move. Time feels like it's of the essence. Other people can tell us time and time again to slow down and smell the roses, but some of us just weren't wired that way... and it's okay.
Living between travels and journeys and memories and adventures is hard. No one talks about it, but it really is like that.
For me: I've made a home nontraditionally. I've made a home out of the absence of just one place. I've made a home out of the freeing feeling of a new experience on the horizon. It doesn't have four walls, but it has hope... and isn't that all we really need?
see u when something exciting happens,
xoxo alex