Today marks the start of the Jewish New Year (well technically it started last night, but I'm rounding) and the start of our third month in Nicaragua, and over the past week or so I've been thinking about what it means to not just start something new but to really commit to it.
In the months that we've been here, there have definitely been days when I have wondered what on earth I was thinking when I quit my job to move down to a place with 70%+ humidity, Zika, and no job offer. When I was thinking of adventure, I never considered how much I might miss temperature controlled office space or not having to use repellent on all uncovered skin. These treasonous thoughts I've had, that maybe Nicaragua was not such a great idea, are not necessarily indicative of a huge fuck-up on my part (could be, let's check in on that in a few more months), but instead are part of my process of truly committing to the start of something new.
In the lead up to this move, the romantic idea of quitting my job to move to Latin America with my husband was exciting, and I didn't worry too much about the details, they would work themselves out. I figured that with some effort, I would find some part-time non-profit job or consulting projects to keep myself occupied, speak Spanish with people, travel around with Aaron and friends, and enjoy tropical fruit smoothies every day of the week year-round. Some of those things have come to pass (friends and family are coming, and tropical fruit smoothies are delicious every day), and some of them have not occurred at quite the pace I thought or the way that I thought (I mostly speak Spanish with Aaron, slowly making progress on the work front). Early on, those days when stuff was not magically falling into place as I hoped it would, I did question my decision to come down here and felt a lack of commitment to this place I arbitrarily decided to call home for a year. Maybe we should cut our losses and move to Greece for the rest of the year? Maybe I should give up my hopes of finding some cool projects to work on and just get a job as a receptionist at a tourist agency? Maybe I should have never quit my job to begin with, it wasn't so bad...
After a lot of reflection, the acquisition of a standing fan, and small adjustments in everyday life (see: previous post about speaking Spanish with Aaron), I have come to appreciate the commitment it takes to move and start over somewhere new and the importance of intentional action to keep that commitment alive. The decision to live in Nicaragua started when we got on a plane, but really committing to make a life here is an ongoing process where every day we have to make choices and take action to demonstrate our commitment to staying here and making something worthwhile out of this year.
This past week, we've had quite a few actions towards commitment - I had a job interview, started taking yoga classes once a week, we got screens made and put on our windows to reduce the number of mosquitoes in the house, we found a Greek guy who makes Greek yogurt, got a cat on loan to help deal with a mice problem that suddenly arose, and we went to a Rosh Hashana party with a hodgepodge of Jews and non-Jews from all over the world. All these actions are renewals of our intention to make something of this year - to enjoy our time here, to find a community to connect with, to get pests out of our house - and that intentionality is something I would like to carry forward with me into this new year, living with purpose - even if my purpose is just to cool off for a little while sometimes.
Shana Tova everyone.
4 comments:
Thanks so much for sharing your process. As someone who also just made a big move, I also have my oh-my-what-have-I-done moments. Thanks for the reminder that it may not all magically come together right away. Hang in there, amiga!
Thanks, Jesse:-) I feel like your move is definitely an apt parallel! Life is good, it has just been an interesting process of figuring things out as they go along in a way I hadn't done in a LONG time. Glad it resonated.
I enjoy reading your blog so much. I remember how hard it was when I moved from NYC to CA when I was 27. Even though there was no language barrier it took a long time to feel at home on many levels. You've chosen a place where your usual creature comforts are challenged and that's a big adjustment in and of itself along with all else that goes with being in a strange place and needing to find your purpose. I am sure thoughts and feelings about going back home are a part of it all. I also remember the language barrier when I traveled in Europe. Its terrific to be bilingual.
Thanks for the message, Nikki! I feel like there is some comfort knowing that this is a relatively short-term thing (only 8 months to go!), and it also makes me appreciate that much more how challenging it must have been for my parents and grandparents who moved around a lot themselves due to far different life circumstances. We are keeping up the good fight with speaking Spanish and hope that we will get to bilingualism by the time our sabbatical year is up!
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