As the countdown is in single digits, I find myself on a pendulum ride that swings between comfort and adventure allowing me to taste all the emotions between. There are days I find myself soaking in the sites and realizing the beauty of Kansas, the state I have called home for nearly my entire life. I have taken more notice of the landscapes and attractions than I have in some time. In these moments, I find myself disappointed that I have never seen the Wizard of Oz museum and that I don't have the obligatory Ball of Twine selfie. Lately, I have noticed I have taken time to snap photos so I can be sure to share when my new students ask, "What is Kansas like?"
On the other side, I can't wait to see a fjord and to live close (ish) to the ocean. The Northern Lights have always been a bucket list item, and there is a troll forest in Bergen I want to explore. Not to mention, I am giddy about the opportunity to learn about a new school system. When I think on these new experiences, it gives me pause. I remember climbing through Rock City and hiking in the Tallgrass Prairie with the enthusiasm of a child. Wind blowing across a wheat field, the sun disappearing behind a busy harvest crew, and limestone cathedrals poking the sky evoke the essence of Kansas. And I wonder, where is that child with wide eyes seeing Kansas, truly seeing Kansas. That is where the avalanche begins for me. Is this how adventure serves us best? We realize what we love most about home? Or do we think we love it so much because it's comfortable and known? What else in my life have I simply become accustomed to and do not fully appreciate? As a teacher, I can't help but tie this to education and the classroom. I ask my students daily to wade into the unknown, so shouldn't I be willing to do the same? How do we balance that which defines us with new experiences that challenge us as we teeter on the thin edge of the slope into cognitive dissonance? As excited as I am about the benefits of my new school, what will I be itching to share from home? Perhaps I discover the answers, and perhaps I do not, but it will definitely be a journey where I learn about me. And really, that might be the point...exploring, challenging, reexamining, growing, and experiencing. One thing for sure though, while I am busy pondering the answers to these questions, I will be enjoying the best of what Kansas has to offer and soaking up the love of home and family to tide me over until the next visit.
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I've thought about writing these thoughts before now, and my trip to Europe has put it fresh in my mind and given me more perspective. The thought of moving to Norway terrifies me. The learning curve will be steep, and I don't speak the language. Sure I am rooted in work, and at least that is a known factor, but I am still scared shirtless (according to auto correct anyway!).
I'm going to travel with everything I own to a place I've never even visited. There will be no family there to lean on, and from the look of the grocery stores, not the comfort food I am used to either! Granted, this might be a good thing, but I digress. I have to document who I am and what I have accomplished and carry that with me. There are rules and social graces I am bound to bungle, but still somewhere in my heart I want this. I am willing to take the chance because maybe something great comes of this. Still sometimes I look at the comfort of the known I am walking away from and wonder. Soon, I will be the one speaking broken phrases of a language I'm learning hoping that people can see beyond that and know that I am actually an intelligent person. Soon, I will be the one not knowing how to do simple life tasks and asking for help like I did this week with laundry because I had never programmed a combination washer dryer before. I'll be turning over a piece of my independence, my car, in exchange for reliance on a public transportation system of which I have little experience because of where I grew up. But here's the thing. I'm making a choice with some known factors and also help from my new employer. What about the people that decide their last best hope is to uproot like me but walk completely into the unknown? It gives me deeper empathy for those who leave their homes because of war and crime, often without the comfort of any possessions or documentation. I'm still not sure I can fathom the level of desperation to go into my current situation without the knowledge that something is there waiting, that at the end of the day, things really will be okay. There is mad respect in my heart for the people that are brave enough, and even desperate enough, to jump. Knowing there are going to be bumps and hiccups, they push forward. So do me a favor, next time you hear broken English or see someone fumbling through a "simple routine" think of me in Norway speaking broken Norwegian, fumbling through life and reach for compassion and empathy. |
Nellie HillJust a woman leaping outside her comfort zone and telling the tale. Archives
April 2024
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