Is easy to think the important things in life, the ones worth doing, are the ones we should spend most of our time busy with.
Then I am not saying anything new when I point out how much time we spend doing things we are not interested in.
I am not talking for the lucky ones who love their job (or at least feel passionate about what they do). I am talking about the many (like me) who do not give a damn about what they spend 8 hours a day doing (when not 13 hours…but this is another story).
I came back one week ago from the most beautiful holiday in my life. I brought my boyfriend in the land which I am from (and which I barely know), I met wonderful relatives and I felt like if I was in the right place in the right moment.
Today I am in Dublin. The snow and ice are all over the street, is Monday and I go out from home when the sky is still as dark as if it was the middle of the night. If this was not enough, I come back home when is night already (even if is 5pm).
This routine is killing some part of me inside. I can feel it. I can feel my ability of seeing the best in things gone; I can feel my patience running away from the tip of my fingers, leaving me to go somewhere warm. I can feel my personality, my smiles and my love for dancing becoming smaller and smaller. I feel them hiding some place safe and when I need them is hard to find them.
I do not mean to complaint about what might seem an easy life. I love my life. I love what I achieved in my life. I love the person I am sharing it with.
Then again I feel like I am not taking the most from it. I feel like if I was not risking enough.
Isn’t it funny how brave I am if we are talking about leaving the flat in which I live, the job I have the country I live to go anywhere, I don’t mind. Then to do some extreme sport or even to walk on a glacier in Argentina makes me shake at the Idea. For my boyfriend is right the opposite. He would jump off a plane right now if he could, but to leave his job and this country that is kindly hosting us since years…he just doesn’t find it that easy.
The fact the we are fearless in different situations make us the perfect match (cause I did so many things I would have never done if it wasn’t for him, and I do not regret any) and I am sure he is learning from me how to be less scared about sharing feelings and emotions.
Now the question is: will he ever do the jump with me out of this cold, windy and rainy country? Or will we always live here between the green and grey of Ireland forgetting eventually all the other colours who are out there?
At the moment I wish we could plan a trip, a long trip of maybe one year or six month.
But the only thing I can plan is the next short holiday, right during one of my 8 hours working day.
Am I selfish if I want more? Do I need more if I want more?
An old popular proverb says: be careful what you wish for, because you might get it.
Maybe is true that what you wish for is not always what you need. But I feel the risk is worth trying.
