The Courage to Stay in One Place

I read this article called “The Courage to Stay in One Place” back in 2014 and it really resonated with me. The past few months, though, have given me a new perspective and more nuance.

Two paragraphs that particularly stand out:

When the first pangs of anxiety hit, my default is always a suitcase and a ticket to anywhere. I have gotten used to the idea that an Italian train and fields of red poppies are the cure for any sort of trouble, but then at a certain point that is no longer true. Because even in travel there are moments where you pause and it all catches up with you, where you stand on the top of Masada and the Dead Sea looks like somebody painted the sky on the desert floor and it’s so damn beautiful and you’re so damn lucky, but you just think of him and that smile and the email you wish you could send. At a certain point, every breathtaking vista just becomes another backdrop for your broken heart.

There is bravery in traveling, but there is bravery in staying home, too. There is bravery in staying still long enough for everything to catch up with you, in trusting that whatever it is, it won’t drag you down. Because it hurts like hell when there’s nowhere to run, when the only place to circle is within the confines of your own addled brain. I lie awake at night trying to figure out ways to escape the barbed wire thoughts closing in. Every memory digs a little deeper into my skin.

I wouldn’t categorize my need to see and experience the world as an escape from anxiety or unpleasantness in general. Curiosity drives most of what I like to do. Yet, I also understand the feeling of wanting distance between those problems in life largely outside of my control, but, by necessity, are within my emotional sphere.

I resisted coming home to rest back in January. I thought I would be off again, as soon as I could. I knew I needed to rest, yet I didn’t want to believe it.

Now, after a few months, I’m starting to savour the taste of having the bravery to stay still long enough for those dreaded little beasts to come make friends.