The Joy Of Being Alive

Someone important once said, “It is the journey, not the destination, that matters.”

A couple of weeks ago I boarded a nine hour plane ride that would take me to the destination that I would inhabit for three and a half months. I sat down in the leather chair that would be my companion for the night and let my body find its way into the nooks and crannies of the seat.

I tend to do a lot of thinking on planes. So, I did. I thought about the opportunity that lay ahead–the immersion that would become my norm. The faces that would hold so much mystery, like a puzzle that you haven’t pieced together yet. The food that would dance through my system. The nights that I would find myself amongst the stars. These thoughts swirled around in my head with the promise of a good time. So, I sat, and I smiled out the window. I smiled at my future.

And then, I landed.

Something changed when the plane hits the tarmac. Up in the air, the thought of living in a different country with a different language–a different everything–didn’t seem real. Until it was. I waltzed off of the aircraft and into the heart of Rome. I went through the motions of signing paperwork, receiving the key to my apartment, and waiting for a shuttle to take me to my new home. I anxiously grazed my hand across my wallet, grasping at anything that felt familiar.

The vehicle zoomed past trees that I had never walked past, houses that I had never been in, and people that I had never connected with. It was in the moment that I plopped down on my bed, that I wondered what the hell I had gotten into. Was it the time change? The birth control? Why wasn’t everything perfect the second I landed?

The important part of my journey started when I knew that transitioning into my new home wasn’t going to be easy. The thought of going somewhere where nobody knows you is nice until you are actually in a situation where no one knows you. It’s that feeling that most people can relate to–when you first leave home and enter a new space, in a new environment–everything is foreign, and you crave the feeling of knowing your surroundings.

One of the reasons I was so excited to study abroad (and still am excited about) was the promise of growth. Within the last two weeks, I have stretched myself in ways that I wasn’t expecting. The growing pains were, as they always are–painful–consisting of the Holy Trinity: doubts and tears and mood swings.

It’s something that most people don’t want to talk about: the hard times. The storm. The journey to becoming content with yourself and your surroundings. The idea that not being okay is okay. Why does society fight this? Why did I?

And then, like all storms do, it passed. I stopped fighting the feeling of not knowing. I let myself walk the path that was meant for me. I was myself again. I was meeting people who made me so happy I would twirl. And boy, do I love to twirl. After thousands of footprints scattered throughout the city of Roma, the drinks that turned into a receipt that caused laughter and the need to dance, the skipping and the deep conversations, the laughing due to misunderstanding, and the long walks along Tiber river: I have found a home here. And now begins my love affair with the city of Roma and the people I have met and the people I have yet to meet.

What a beautiful life we get to live. A life full of change and what comes with it–the difficulties and the reward. But what we tend to forget, as humans, is the journey that got us to our happy place. My journey thus far has taught me so much. That it is okay to feel lost, because you will always find your way back to yourself. To hug yourself when you need it. To accept that change is an essential ingredient for growth and prosperity. To allow yourself to truly feel your emotions.

I feel as if I have arrived at my destination now, but oh, it has been the journey that has allowed me to do so. I am now ready to fall head over heels with this precious time I have been given. Time that I intend to fill with the beauty of truly immersing myself in this experience–the people that are becoming my family, the streets that are becoming my dance floor, and the love that will continue to radiate from my content heart.

I wanted to share this story because I think it is important to feel comfortable with your emotions, and that that is normal. Part of accepting yourself has to do with listening to what your body and soul are telling you. Try to not fight the growing pains–accept that they are doing you some good.

Oh, the joy of being alive. The emotions that we can feel. The good and the bad–all vital to our construction. As I dance and twirl through the winding alleyways filled with grapevines dangling from terraces and people placing their hats on the ground, eager to share their talents–I want you to think of where you are right now. Wherever you are, whatever you are feeling–that is life. We are all, at this moment, experiencing something that is a part of the journey. Your journey. And that is beautiful.

Now that I have arrived, I am ready to continue my journey. Because, even when we think we arrive at our destination–when we think we know, we continue to learn and grow. I am saying “yes” to growth and the pursuit of happiness.

Do you want to say it with me?

Because the moment you agree to accept, learn, and grow, is the same moment that you start living. Buongiorno to an adventure that already has me grinning from ear to ear.