surrendering to transitions
I can't help but continue asking myself: what's next? Acceptance. That's what's next.
While I haven’t been awol from Substack itself — I’ve actually been reading more articles than previously — I’ve not written for myself in a while. Expect some resonating quotes from some inspiring Substack writers scattered throughout this article. If the quotes make a lil something inside you squirm, read their whole post and you won’t be disappointed.
stillness
This is the first time in my life I have been faced with great uncertainty.
*inhale*
Loving uncertainty. Compassionate uncertainty. Graceful uncertainty. Low-pressure uncertainty, because there are generously loose plan A’s and B’s and C’s, and even D’s and E’s that I’ve finally accepted as okay, while months ago I was too stubborn to even imagine them.
*exhale*
Guilty uncertainty. Shameful uncertainty. Fearful uncertainty. Anxious uncertainty.
there is freedom in uncertainty
My life is officially in the hands of the present moment.
From birth to elementary school to middle school to high school to college, every next step had already been decided for me, and I just had to worry about the details, like which electives sounded like a good mix of easy-A and interesting, which University I liked best (and gave me the biggest scholarship), and which major I’d be choosing. Even the major-choosing thing came hard — I changed my major three times in two years. Thankfully I had my second Spanish major holding down the fort with my credits while I played around with international studies, peace justice and conflict studies, and finally landing on the perfect combination of practical but interesting — communication studies.
Even doing NALCAP, an English TA program in Spain, had been decided for me by me years prior. I had always watched Youtube videos from people teaching English abroad, so I had my mind set on getting TEFL-certified for a while. Teaching English is one of the most full-proof ways to move abroad, especially considering the mass amount of programs there are out there.
Balancing what was expected of me with my desires, I considered teaching English abroad as my ‘Plan B’ when I would speak about it out-loud. It’s true that the hustle of University (at first) motivated me to be more career-oriented — I even questioned my high school dreams of traveling the world. WTF?! But my intuition and heart already knew the Plan ‘B’ was just a facade to avoid hearing people questioning my decision and giving me unsolicited advice, as people with ‘life experience’ tend to do. The only people with ‘life experience’ that I’m willing to hear out are people who themselves have fought for their dream — their stories are rich with experiences that surpass the career and stability and family and retirement talking points.
Now that I’ve lived and taught English in Spain for two years, accomplishing post-University Plan A, I’m questioning my next move. I don’t know how I’m going to maintain my living-abroad dream right now in the way I want to. I hadn’t planned a next this time.
I can blame my Libra moon and rising for my indecisiveness and my ceaseless curiosity. But I’d also consider the idea that the trauma of losing my mother at a young age has shown me how delicate the days are, and how spending 8 hours a day five days a week doing something I don’t like is not something I’m willing to sacrifice my time on this Earth for. I’m aware that saying this comes from a place of privilege.
There’s a deeper purpose to everyone’s being than simply meeting the materialistic standard that competitive, extremely capitalistic societies try holding us to.
what’s now or what’s next?
It’s helped me a lot to think about this summer as the transition between chapters.
Speaking of transitions, Happy Summer Solstice! Time for renewal.
This spring I had been adapting (mentally) to the changes that were about to occur and distracting myself at the same time. Not only was my energy set on fully taking advantage of my last months in Málaga, but my mind and body were running on cyclical bouts of chest heaviness, anxiety, and recycling ideas about what to do next, seeing many potential paths, yet not feeling particularly inclined to any of them. Although I reapplied for my third year in the NALCAP program, doing it again is not something I’m too keen on. My mind had kind of excluded it as an option in order to think of something new, more challenging, and evolutionary.
Since the last update I sent about my Holy Week, I had been volunteering weekly at a local urban garden, taking private pole classes, swimming in the Mediterranean, attending many events in Malaga, spending more time outside in the gorgeous consistently 70-something degree Fahrenheit weather, exploring Málaga’s surrounding towns, sightseeing Naples, Italy with my roommate, and packing my things. But is that distraction or appreciating the bliss and joy of what I currently have?
is the transition really just the beginning of the chapter?
My last day working in Malaga was May 30, and my flight out was two days later. I initially signed my lease to stay until the end of June, but changed my plans a few months out and decided to go up north to Bilbao to be closer to my partner. Our whole relationship has been long distance, managing to visit each other once every month or month and a half. Although we were in opposite sides of Spain, being within the same country still made things feel a lot closer than when I was in Serbia or the US.
Regardless, leaving a place that’s become home is always bittersweet, and goodbyes never get easier. I left friendships, a great apartment, great roommates, the sea and sunny climate, the gorgeous sunsets, the infinite views, and the vivid biodiversity and colorful flowers and delicious jasmine and orange blossoms blessing my sense of sight and smell. On my last day of work, a teacher who I never worked with but always made an effort to chat and say hi told me that she didn’t believe in goodbyes, only see you later’s. I liked that. Until we cross paths again. Because why close that door?
A month later, and I still have no clue what awaits me. Ironically, I have a lot less anxiety about it. So much can change in three months, one month, a week, even in a day. A few days ago I actually came across a new Plan A that I’m really excited about if everything goes… yaknow… to plan. I couldn’t have even imagined it months ago when breaths were getting cut short from my heavy chest.
However it happens, I know I want to stay in Spain, continue improving my Spanish, keep learning about myself and Spain’s rich cultural diversity, write more often, read more often, do yoga and pole more often, develop more eco-friendly habits, experiment with more vegetarian recipes, inspire more people to go against the status quo and explore planet Earth’s blessings while we have them.
responsive spaces
Something that’s been bringing me peace and comfort in Bilbao has been going to the library in Bilbao’s Cultural Center. They have quite a few travel magazines on display (all of which I’ve already skimmed through) and on the third floor I found a whole section full of travel guides and literature (the next shelves to rummage through). The first time I came to this library was actually during Holy Week while my partner was working. I talk about the experience extensively in the Part 2 of my three-part Semana Santa series that I still haven’t finished writing for Substack. It’ll come eventually.
There’s something so relaxing about allowing curiosity guide me, instead of letting my overthinking (¡¡¡¡¡¡)produce-do-productivity(!!!!!!) brain get in the way of that. Especially considering the current transition between life chapters, engaging with my interests is incredibly important because perhaps the ideas I once had about what to do next are intuitively outdated, which could explain my inaction or lack of motivation to begin. Or my ideas are outdated or there’s an important piece to the puzzle that I’m missing and haven’t found yet.
The song “Sweet Surrender” by John Denver has really resonated with me the last few months, leading to tears of joy and gratitude and acceptance. It’s representative of my heart and brings me to a state of euphoria and understanding and presence with the lyrics, wanting to belt it out into the world with everyone who feels the same way, infecting the world with our pure and innocent energy that lusts for a rich life.
You know the kinda rich I’m talking about.
If you resonate at all with anything I’ve written here so far, this song is dedicated to you.
Thank you for reading!
With peace, love, and compassion,
Tea