So here we are in 2020, a new year and a new decade at that. It struck me the other day that I hadn’t posted this year even though, shockingly, it’s almost the end of January. This has been for a number of reasons but the main one being that I’ve had a fair amount of post holiday blues since I’ve been back home after my holiday. There’s a certain level of escapism that exists when you’re planning for a holiday. All of your efforts from plotting where to visit, to buying fabulous holiday wear take up all of your conscious energy. In most instances you even dream of your wanderlust prior to stepping onto that plane. Well of this is true in the reverse upon your return also. For me, the situation is even more amplified considering that my recent holiday was the first time I’d seen my parents in over 8 months. So having to leave them again without the prospect of returning until 12 months had gone by was one I still struggle with even now.
I often write about life in Australia when you’re a 1st generation migrant and the difficulties involved in navigating this space. What I write less about is the feeling of having your heart, your soul and your being split between two locations. This is only a sentiment that those who have left their homelands in search for a better life experience and battle to express. Being the child of parents who immigrated also represents something slightly different in its nature as well. The one thing I always remember, and that I am reminded of constantly by my parents too, is that they moved to Australia for my future. So that I could be educated and secure and stable. So I wouldn’t have to wonder if my life would be compromised because of the instability of a conflict affected nation.
There’s a certain level of pressure involved in this which denotes that we as children of migrants owe it to our parents to be something more. In the Sri Lankan community, as well as many others, this means finishing high school, going to university and getting a secure and ongoing job in a vocation that is deemed successful; ie: a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer etc. As you may know, I didn’t follow that path. I ended up in the international development field which places me under the ‘humanitarian’ category. Because of being engaged in this space, and also growing up in a country that gave me options and empowered me to be whoever I wanted to be, uninhibited due to coming from a home where my parents provided everything for me, I dreamt of having adventures and travelling the world. If you asked me when I was younger what my ideal existence in adulthood would be, I would have answered with: travelling the world with my partner and taking chances on life, career and everything in between. This sentiment however seems to have gotten lost in the sea of obligations of adulthood and societal expectations on what adulting looks like in practice.
As I’ve gotten older I have realised that I may have fallen into the trap of seeking security and stability in exchange of adventure. There’s no doubting that taking on a mortgage and having a 3 decades long loan shifts the way you think. But I may have gotten too caught up on this metaphorical anchor which feels like it has been weighing me down more than keeping me afloat. The other side of that connotation focuses on being deliberately kept stagnant. Yes that anchor is holding me in place right now, but it’s also stopping me from moving; whether that be forward or backward.
From the mainstream view of things, I have my life in order. I have a home that I own (well the bank owns, but its in my name!) and a full time job with a decent salary. Most people will tell you that this is the be all and end all of life. That I should continue to climb that career ladder in my current space and look to acquire more and more property as I “settle down” in this life. But what if that isn’t enough? What if that was never what I wanted solely in and of itself in the first place? What if I dream of more than just waking up everyday and going to work to pay my bills?
If I am honest with myself, I dream of adventure; of following my heart and taking chances. I’ve drowned out the voice of that enthusiastic young adult who believed in her aspirations and envisioned a life moulded of her own accord. The responsibilities of adulthood have changed me but perhaps these can be weighed against what my nature is calling of me; being true to my inner self and fulfilling my dreams of adventure and a meaningful life. Maybe there is a way to balance it all out and live the life I want to lead in addition to owning things.
The only thing I know right now is that I am willing to take chances, I always have been. It’s just that the intention has been drowned out by expectations of others. Life is precious and short and I now understand that my way of how I want to live it isn’t wrong, it’s just my own. I intend to pursue these dreams and live the best life that I can, on my own terms.
Sx
I blog for Change. 