Things are about to get personal. Even more so than before. If you're not into that kind of stuff, I suggest you stop reading now.
I've been struggling with the decision to stay or to go ever since I've been back in Berlin. The funny thing is, that I think I was never here to begin with. I was in Afraidland. I was afraid to stay. Afraid, that I wouldn't make it. That I wouldn't find enough stamina to pursue my caking/baking passion. That I wouldn't stick with anything long enough to make it work or last. Long enough for it to make me stay. I was looking for an anchor. Something to keep me here. Or someone. I didn't find it.
Here, the insecurities start descending again. Here I forget how to listen to my inner voice and I let my thoughts run the show. Here, staying in balance requires much more work than on the road. Here I start feeling small, insecure, doubtful, worried. I lack structure but I'm afraid to build one. A friend wrote a long, soul exposing Facebook post, where he said "Suddenly without structure and support all my anxieties return... ". He was talking about workshops, but it sums it all up so well. I lack structure and I don't use the support system I have, with some exceptions. I don't really want to talk about my imaginary problems with my friends, since I don't like to whine about nothing. In my head I often refer to myself as "the girl who got it all and went crazy"... But since these things are occupying such a big chunk of my thoughts, they have a tendency of slipping out like lentils out of a sieve that's not fine enough. So I start to dread meeting people, or close up or find it difficult to speak even when I am with someone. And then I spend more time alone. Which makes things worse. A fine vicious cycle!
Life is a big workshop, I know, but it does help to have more structured sessions to deal with our shit. I've noticed that it is so much easier to open up and to peel away these ego protections when you have that support of a group, those strangers that are in the same structure. Everyone going through their own shit but sharing the structure nonetheless, so that you are on the same page with what kind of things might and will be stirred up. And in those workshops it's ok and encouraged to be as vulnerable and open as possible, which also makes it collectively easier. But the moment that structure is gone, all the old anxieties and fears and insecurities start creeping in. When the experience high, also known as the "I was so open and authentic me and it felt fucking amazing" high starts to wear off. sooner or later they will emerge in some shape or size. I do believe, that in every workshop or ashram trip or festival or whatever mindfulness self exploration soul tripping thing we happen to do does take us in the right direction: to know ourselves more and to give us new tools and new insight. But sometimes it can just end up being tripping and sailing from one experience high to the next without actually integrating in between. That's what I'm worried I'm doing. I'm worried that I'm so hooked on this high, this ultimate love and excitement high: excitement about new experiences and level ups, love towards myself, the universe, a certain someone or many someones, or all that in combination. And that's a pretty powerful drug right there: the feeling that the happiness and balance was actually found from within. It's a powerful fucking drug.
Of course I also feel in balance and happy and blissful without structures. I'd like to say most of the time, but I'll settle for "often", which is sliding into "occasionally" the more anxious about the future I get. Spontaneous random gushes of love are always wonderful. But the longer time there is between these experiences, these moments of clarity and self love, the deeper the mud gets. The anxiety and doubt monsters descend. I desperately try to find something to cling on to, something to give me courage to stay somewhere, to commit myself to something. And when I don't find it, I leave. I'm a lover of leaving, like Rumi so well put it.
So now I'm leaving again. I'm joining a nomad horse caravan in Guatemala. And I'm scared shitless I'm doing it because I'm a sissy coward who's afraid to commit to anything and who's just chasing the next rush, the next experience, the next high. But I'm still going, and those are fearthoughts that are not true. I know this is not "escaping the future into an endless holiday" (even though I do believe the fearthoughts quite often), but there are things I actually want to learn, mainly Spanish and living and travelling as a part of a community. The ache that comes from the lack of a tribe, of a community to belong to, is sometimes disturbingly painful. I know this will only be a temporary fix for that, or maybe I won't feel like I belong in this particular group at all, but at least I will have tried, I will have given myself the chance to learn how to live and function in a community, how to communicate and how to resolve conflicts (a skill which I desperately want to get better at). And deep down I know there's no right or wrong choice here. By going I'll gain something wonderful. And also by staying I would gain something wonderful. But when I'm on the move, there isn't this amount of existential angst and lack of purpose. Then my purpose is to travel, to get more in touch with myself, to stay in the moment. Here, I have no purpose. I'm a jobless hippie who's stuck in a mire of imaginary problems. And who's being way too hard on herself. So I'll go.
Often I also think whether I'd like to redo my blue/red pill choice. I'm pretty sure I'd still take the pill of self-and consciousness development. But boy is it a hard road and feels damn lonely sometimes. I'm still confident there is a more lasting balance to be found. And I know it won't be in workshops but in "real life", whatever that is. The workshops help, but they are tools. But damn easy tools to get hooked on. I'm trying to find that balance and I will get there. Or I am there already, actually. I've just forgotten I am. But I will remember.