Looking Back
By Joel Polarek
February 28 — fifty days after I returned to the U.S. and picked up my life again. My last university semester is already in motion, and I’m flying from thing to thing. I feel ready for tomorrow before today has even begun.
That way of life and of thinking is not for me, even though this is where I usually end up. Yet, I’ve learned that I have options when it comes to the way I live. So when I feel I’m going down that winding thought spiral, I try to remember my motto abroad: “Every moment is worth something. Make the most of this experience right in front of you.”
That motto really kicked me in the pants my last full day in London. I was resting in bed, just back from the Boot’s Pharmacy with Pseudoephedrine. My medicine and head cold were at war, and I was on the sidelines, feverishly rooting for the Sudafed. At that moment, I think I decided to let my last day slip away.
Dr. Marcie Hinton, our professor, was out canvassing tea shops when she sent me a picture and location of the only functional keepsake I wanted, a tea strainer. So, naturally, I bundled up and was on my way. I didn’t care if I found it or not, but I guess I wanted a good reason to get out and adventure one more time. I had no phone signal, no internet, only my common sense, and a sorely lagging map app, but my mission was successful. I ended my visit the way I wanted, in a tea shop.
It’s a tiny anecdote, and not entirely noteworthy, but I think it showed me how much experiences differ when your setting shifts. I valued wandering London more than wallowing in minor aches, which is probably a metaphor or something.
The sting of curiosity I felt while walking down historic streets to the feeling of insignificance while standing within the marble-lined walls of St. Paul’s Cathedral fed my spirit. Riding the underground train, getting stared at for our accents, being lost and hopping on a different service — I miss the everyday motions and the unfamiliarity I felt while doing them there.
Now that I’m back, I periodically flip open my journals or read my blog posts, turning back time to try to prolong the change I felt abroad and discover how I allowed those changes to shape the person I am.
Maybe, just for a moment, I got to pick up someone else’s life. The way I see it, we pin our identity down by our habits: where we buy our food, what job or major we have, the places we go and the people we see. Each moment is actively or passively constructed, and those unmoving anchors are gentle reminders, giving you a clue to who you are. Of course, I took a lot of “me” to London, even a group of familiar faces, but I also left a lot of “me” in the states. Because I got to leave a lot of myself behind, I think my story in London featured a much better version of myself.
I gave it a go, I got to travel with a group of genuinely kind and adventurous travel companions. I still wish I had more experience under my belt, but I did gain one nugget of wisdom: my life can be lived more intentionally.
