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Don’t Confuse the Bend on the Road with the End of the Road
Changing my perspective about obstacles to get to my dream
I had a dream — and it’s gone. There is nothing I can do about it. It was there, I was getting closer to it — and then it disappeared overnight. And now here I am. Empty. Meaningless. Dreamless. And I don’t know what to do about it.
Eight months ago, inspired by a couple of coincidental events, contradictory feelings crashing onto each other, immersed in the wonder of chance-encounters — I had a moment when I realised that I want to move. Not out of the flat. Not as in going for a run. Not to another flat. I came up with the idea of moving to another country, to a city that I love more than anything — where I keep going back because it’s magic.
It started as a silly mess of what-ifs and why-nots that quickly turned into a fuck-let’s-do-it and if-not-now-then-when. Then I added another element to the equation when I told myself: You are not too old and it’s not too late.
Okay, I can do this.
Think about impossible projects — when everybody shies away just because it’s so much easier not to do it and just wait until the problem goes away — that’s when I am thriving. That’s what motivates me. Looks improbable? Give it to me? Looks impossible? I will…
