In the present, on the future...

Does adulthood mean being persistently attuned to the fact that at any moment, given a certain change in circumstances, one might become:

a) bankrupt

b) homeless

c) alone

d) crazy

e) dead

f) a social smoker?

Or am I just having a bad day/week/month/season?

London?

Hana at Cafe String in Stockholm

I'm thinking about applying for PhDs for next year, which has also had me thinking a lot about cities and countries and the future, and where I belong in this world.

I've really loved living in London, and part of me can see myself being really happy here in the future. The other part of me still has an insatiable curiosity for the world, and for experiencing life - not just travel - in new corners of it.

I'm not sure whether the fact that I've enjoyed London is necessarily a reason to not keep searching. I was really happy in Singapore, after all, but I know now that having returned would've been the worst mistake of my life. It was a nice chapter while it lasted, but Singapore was not my future.

I spent the other weekend in Stockholm with Hana, and we talked over the options. Hana is from Vancouver too, but we met in Singapore. She's Czech-born, has been doing her Master's in Sweden, and is starting med school in Ireland next year. We've been to 14 countries together across 3 continents. She's my other 'international' friend, and she understands me probably as much as anyone does. Thus, talking to her was really helpful, and discussing leaving London seemed a lot less scary when I was actually outside of England. When I'm in London, it's hard to picture myself elsewhere, like I'm caught in an urban vortex.

Maybe Amsterdam is the place for me? Or Berlin? Or maybe even New York? Or maybe London is indeed the perfect fit, but I'll likely always regret not trying other places while I was young and had the chance. If it's the place for me, I can always come back, right?

I know I learn the most about myself and the world when I'm living in a new city, and I want to keep learning. But at the same time, I also feel the desire for a little bit of stability; to lay down some roots; to build strong friendships; to perhaps have a long-term relationship.

London could be a great place to assert myself, to build the life I want. This prospect has been somewhat clouded by the fact that things have been really rough lately. I have been in a rut, and so I guess I have seen my life in London as also being in a rut. But things will pick up, surely, as they always do. And London will continue to be that great bustling metropolis; representing beauty, diversity, challenge and opportunity. I guess only time will tell whether that's going to be enough to keep me here.

I'm tired of being disappointed...

but I don't want to lower my expectations.

Guy Fawkes Day in Clapham Common

I'm not in love, except with Autumn

Today is Sunday, and I spent it sprawled out in a pile of autumn leaves in Finsbury Park, watching children, dogs and lovers frolic around me in the colourful leaves that littered the ground. It was beautiful.

I'm not in love, I don't have a job, our shower is broken, our internet isn't working, the days are getting colder and darker, and I have no idea what I want from my life, but still, I'm happy. Today, I'm happy.

Adorned with the fleeting warmth of the autumn sun, crunching alone through the leaves with nowhere to go and nobody to see, I realized that for now, this is all I really needed.

This is all I really need.

Back in the Fast Lane

Sarajevo

My first week back in London was a bit shitty. I got the worst jetlag I think I've ever had, and wandered around the city like a zombie. So many of the people I loved in this city have moved away in the short time I've been gone, and their ghosts lingered on street corners. To make things even more grim, the rain began to fall. And fall. And fall.

I booked a ticket to Sarajevo, and 36-hours later I was greeted at the airport by my dear Jelena. Two other close friends who are moving from London to Singapore (sad!) were also visiting her, which is a large part of the reason I decided to go. We had a great time in Sarajevo, which really charmed me the second time around, and then spent the weekend in Dubrovnik, soaking up sunshine beside the sea. They had rented an amazing flat just outside the walls of the old town with a great view over the harbour and the city, and a little garden in the back where we drank too much at night and recovered over coffee and breakfast the following mornings.

I came back to London totally rejuvenated. Being with people I love - and possibly the people that understood me and tolerated me the most in London - was exactly what I needed. I had no idea how drained I really was, never really getting a holiday after the dissertation wrapped up. It was the perfect last-minute decision.

And now I'm back to London, out of the funk I was in, ready to move on and start (re)building a life. Applying for jobs, getting settled into our new flat, making new friends, maybe even dating again. Life, as always, moves on. And I'm okay with that.

One battle won; the neverending fight of London approaches

The dissertation is done.  Done!  Not necessarily done well, but printed and stapled and submitted and, therefore, finished.

Right now I'm sprawled out on the sofa on my parent's patio, wrapped up in a light blanket, listening to the late-summer rain fall around me, Noah and the Whale playing in the background.  I just want to be alone here in this moment.  I don't want to go anywhere, and I don't want to see anyone, and I don't want to do anything.  I just want to be alone and quiet.

But I'm returning to the bustle of London in 5 days, and I've got far too many goodbyes (and hellos) to say before then, and so much to do to get ready.  Oh, London.  You seem so far away from me right now.  And I'm afraid to return to you.  I don't want to start living again, just yet.  And London forces me to live, or even more, to fight to live.  And that reality, as I lay here listening to raindrops fall on the green leaves of the backyard garden, is a bit overwhelming.  I'm not sure I'm ready to fight again. Yet.