I’ve been back in America for two weeks. Enough time to reunite with friends and family, attend to administrative needs, and shift from travel mode to MFA in Creative Writing mode.
These two weeks also gave me time to reflect upon my trip (I imagine I’ll be reflecting upon it for years to come). I tend to be an introspective person — I try to see the big picture, to ask myself, “What did this experience mean?”
Traveling was the first major thing I did after getting out of the military, and I believe it set the tone for how I live the rest of my life. It changed me in dozens of ways but I feel like I can place most of these changes under three umbrellas:
Self-confidence
The most obvious change is that I’m more self-confident. I gained self-confidence because I had to depend on myself for everything. I had no one holding my hand or giving me advice from afar (I left the cell phone at home, and email was often sketchy). Out of my comfort zone, I land navigated, practiced street smarts, decided who to trust and not to trust, secured food and lodging, translated and was translated to. I cleared dozens of challenges every day, challenges that I don’t encounter to nearly the same degree when I’m in America.
Dreaming
I’ve always considered myself a dreamer, but seeing the world in all its diversity made me dream not only as big as I used to dream when I was a kid, but bigger than I ever thought possible.
That said, I realize that dreaming isn’t action. (In fact, a downside of dreaming is that it can take our minds off the present and prevent us from appreciating the here and now.) Ultimately, achieving goals requires work. That’s the truth and it’s not glamorous.
I identified two stumbling blocks to fulfilling dreams — fear of uncertainty, and fear of non-conformity. Those two fears remain. But I developed corresponding mantras:
- There is no certainty in life but uncertainty
- There are absolutely no rules to the game of life
Risk taking.
Getting out of the Army, traveling, and pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing involved a risk. Some people would say I committed financial suicide, but I knew that if I didn’t take the risk that I would regret it for the rest of my life. Ultimately, regret is more scary than failure.
The past 10 months have been an emotional roller coaster. I’ve been wracked with fear on many occasions, but have noticed something peculiar: when I set out into the unknown, “stepping stones” have continually appeared. I’ve never been given more than I can handle (and most of the things I thought I couldn’t navigate at first glance proved navigable).
I’ve noticed that when I ask most people what they’re proud about in life, they talk about something that they did in their teens or 20s with a far-off look in their eyes. (But what about ages 30+?) They say things like, “I wish I was young like you,” or “Do it now because once you settle down it’s too difficult.”
I’ve realized that this is not how I want to live my life. When people ask me what I’m proud about 60 years from now, I hope to mention something I did last month, last week, or yesterday. Maybe this is the most important lesson of them all.
