I’m starting to think we should have considered a more appropriate name for this blog. Perhaps something along these lines would have been more fitting:
A while ago I promised a life update. I’m finally following through.
Ready? Here goes: we moved across the country to Portland, Oregon! Brian was offered a job with Icebreaker (a New Zealand Company, oddly enough) and subsequently found an adorable studio apartment next to one of the many local breweries (coincidence? I think not).
I’ve been here for 18 days. Here are the few things I have noticed so far:
- I’m not very hip (I knew this already, but the high concentration of hipsters in this city serves as a daily reminder. Do you think I get a few hip points now that I’ve started using Instagram? I’m probably too far behind the trend).
- It’s a really small world (this, too, I already knew, but when I found out that our Australian neighbor lived in the same small town as us in Western North Carolina and ran into a friend of Brian’s from college at a random bus stop on the same day, my small world belief was reconfirmed).
- I’m head over heels in love… with IKEA. I think the term “retail therapy” was likely coined there.
- I can count the men I’ve seen without beards on one hand.
- It really does rain quite a bit (If my memory serves me right, it has rained 17 of my 18 days here. Today is no exception, with this strange rotating pattern of moments of bright sun followed by extreme downpour. My conclusion: Mother Nature is menopausal).
My lack of hip-ness doesn’t bother me and I don’t really mind the rain too much, although my poor husband would certainly tell you differently. Sentences like “how does anyone live here?” and “I read somewhere that it isn’t going to stop until at least July…” have left my lips on multiple occasions. In actuality, however, I’m just avoiding my real underlying questions, such as “why do I live here” and “what in the world am I supposed to do with myself now?”
I think what I’m experiencing could be called a quarter-life existential crisis (no, I’m really not quite as dramatic as I sound, I just like the shock value). From what I’ve gathered, this is common phenomenon among long-term travelers after returning home.
I’m fully aware of what a fortunate conundrum this is. I’m asking myself questions like “am I ready for grad school?” and “what type of work will I find fulfilling and challenging?” instead of “where will I find my next meal?” I try hard never to take my circumstance for granted. There are so many options, I only hope to make the most of my “one wild and precious life.” I really don’t want to disappoint Mary Oliver.
Between my job/soul searching I’ve had a lot of time to read. I’ve resonated with this passage from James Kavanaugh’s “There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves” which Brian passed on to me years ago. Perhaps other’s may find some solace here as well:
“Some people do not have to search, for they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it seriously. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them. Seldom do they understand me.
I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers and lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know–unless it be to share laughter.
We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we want to love and be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or to compete for love.
This is for wanderers, dreamers and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.”
For now, Brian is enjoying his new job and I’m continuing to look for work (in case you’ve seen this: no, I did not come here to retire and yes, all the hot girls wear glasses) and other ways to get involved in this new, exciting city. I have to admit, it does feel good to know we aren’t going anywhere for a while (remind me I wrote that the next time I get bit by the travel bug).
Have any of you visited or lived in Portland? I would love to hear your stories, tips and suggestions on what to see and do here!