I'm starting to get so very very nervous. I know it's ridiculous--I'm gone what, five weeks total? Five weeks is a drop in the ocean of time. I'm not going to be gone for months or years or to go live in the forests of India forever.
And I really do want to do this. For reals. The excitement I feel is just heavily layered with nervous anticipation right now.
I don't think I'm as nervous about culture shock or potential illness or anything like that. What is scampering around in my mind a lot lately is how, like, contemplate and stuff this trip is going to be. When I distill my anticipation down to a single point, I am nervous about the sheer amount of time that I will be spending alone. In silence, more or less, unless I develop a fun habit of muttering to myself.
When I'm not surrounded by the people I love or by the stressors that pervade my everyday life or simply by the habits that are so integrated into me, is there anything of value left over? Because what happens when the constant stimuli I have here is stripped away and I am left to my own devices? Part of why I was so interested, and am now so nervous about this journey, is that I want to find out exactly that.
I really struggle with what exactly makes me, well, me. And though I think that this will be an amazing, albeit short, chance for me to view my life from a different perspective, I know that there is also going to be some grasping around to find something to hold on to while I do this.
I've had a lot of people ask me about all the attachments I'm leaving behind here and how I'll be able to cope with them. That is an excellent question. "Attachments" have such a bad connotation, but when you think about the actual word, I don't think it's such a bad thing to have a little of. I am happy to be attached to some of the people and things in my life--they anchor me, keeping my from floating adrift, aloof, alone.
So I guess we (or I, singular, soon?) shall see. Hmmm boy.