nomad – definition:
someone who belongs to a group of people who move from place to place in order to find food and water for their animals or themselves
- someone who moves from place to place or who often changes jobs
I’m neither in search of food or water, thank god things have not got that dire, nor am I one to often change jobs, a glance at my CV will tell you that I stick to mine for an average of two years at a time, but someone who moves from place to place I am.
Again I find myself at that transitionary crossroads between job, country and home. It’s the phase I like to call, The Nomadic Black Hole into which I have fallen and find myself clawing my way to the top in order to get out, bit by bit.
In this hole you will find:
- A whole load of uncertainty
- A big bag of hope and anticipation
- A fair share of apprehension
- A puddle of tears
- A serious lack of communication with the outside world (sorry friends!)
- A tremendous need for a haircut, a leg wax and a mani/pedicure… hell, anything that will cease to announce to the world that in fact, not only do you look like a cave person but you’ve been living like one as well
- A cupboard under the stairs (ok, so it’s not quite as bad as our friend Harry Potter had it but this temporary room I am staying is arguably comparable to the size of a shoe box)
And at the top of this hole you will see:
- Reaching out to you, many pairs of helping hands… thank you
- Light and space
- Security? Is that really you?
The fact that I am writing this blog is a sign I am one step closer to being out of the bog, after all, I have technology and time all at once, but despite all the help in the world, being in this hole means ultimately sorting through all the shit alone.
Anyone ever heard you reap what you sew? Or is this scenario more, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? Whatever it is, it’s you who got yourself in this mess, therefore it’s you who must take the necessary measures to help yourself out of it. And perhaps then, you will get your just desserts. Or maybe you’ll just stop clinging to idioms to make yourself feel better.
So I’ve decided to give some advice to others.. though really mostly to myself… rather, I best call this a self-checklist on…
What To Do When Your Nomadic Ways Get the Better of You:
Step 1: Eat well. I have long known myself to be uber-sensitive to what I eat. Whatever it’s been, be the change in diet, four weeks eating school dinners at a summer school or just generally consuming too many processed carbs but I have not been feeling good. Without the right fuel in your body nobody can function at 100%. Tiredness breeds exhaustion, grumpiness and weeping phone calls home. So eat well. As my mum is constantly reminding me. And well, mums are usually right.
Step 2: One thing at a time. Flights? Check. Job? Check! Well, you’re doing well then Carly. A roof over your head? Kind of… There’s a lot to sort through but don’t forget that each step is a triumph. Soon you’ll have that space and light and comfort you so desire. Postive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts…
Step 3: Don’t let it all-consume you. Have a holiday. Take a break. Do things that aren’t just flat hunting and watching your savings deplete.
Step 4: I’m running low on ideas. Maybe I can fill you in once I get here? Let’s say, network. Yes, network. That’s always a good one. I’ve already discovered a few good ways to build and utilise a network of support here in London, despite only being here a few days. Besides from the obvious one, talk to those you know already here (if you are fortunate enough to be in this situation, it really is the best way), there are online networks and websites particularly geared to helping Kiwis and Aussies make their big OE (overseas experience) as seamless as possible. What a kind, caring bunch we are! And I will be sure to fill those of you in on these once I have some more success stories to share. What better way than to talk to people who have been through it before? I am currently trying to latch on to this opportunity to see if it creates any leads. Or I could just try an online plea right here and now. Someone, please someone give me a nice room to rent!
I knew London would be a totally different kettle of fish to Cordoba – that it is. And don’t get me wrong, I am loving it. But it’s neither better nor worse, just different and so my experience settling in here follows a totally different procedure. This leads me to say, I am pretty sure there are more steps in the above process but not having been through all of these yet, I will have to update you all on these once I have scrambled out of the hole and plucked the muck from beneath my fingernails. Meanwhile, I’ll concentrate on the light at the end of the tunnel and leave you/myself with a thought from Hunter S. Thompson:
” Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?”
Well now, that was a bit dramatic.