Gezelligheid
Several years ago I set a goal for myself: to live abroad. My desire to do so has driven almost every decision I have made for the past three years: my move to San Francisco, the career I chose, the specialization I pursued, the connections I made. These are not to be mistaken as means to an end. I am eternally grateful to those I have met along the way: my first employer who fought hard to provide me every opportunity to spread my wings in an environment I sometimes found restrictive, my college professor who quietly engineered a series of events that led me to choose the career I did and continues to provide support, and my mentor/manager/friend who backed me in my pursuit of an International assignment. I couldn't have planned these things if I tried, and if I could have they certainly wouldn't have turned out as wonderfully as they have.
I arrived in Amsterdam, the Netherlands a few weeks ago, and this beautiful city will be my home for the next 18 months. I think it was after my first successful attempt (after a few futile ones) to navigate the tram system that I realized the magnitude of my current situation. I have achieved my goal.
A runner who beats a personal best time starts his next run with a desire to beat his new record. A team finds success when they defeat the opponent, but the challenge starts all over again in the next game. In both of these cases one can define exactly how, when, and by how much they have "won." In both of these cases the next step is clear; there is always another game to win, another time to beat. In both of these cases one comprehends the feeling of victory, for if they have not experienced it before they understand it through having been subject to its opposite: defeat.
Achieving a goal independent of outside factors is difficult to define, to quantify. I wasn't faster, stronger, or better than my previous self or someone else. I am not suddenly able to compare my performance to a baseline set by myself or others. And perhaps the most difficult and foreign feeling I've ever experienced: I don't know my next move. All I can do is just be.
The ability to live in the present and appreciate each moment does not come naturally. Or perhaps, like imagination and optimism, it fades with age. By setting and accomplishing a goal with no tangible reward aside from self-fulfillment, I have found myself back in the present. This state of consciousness is just as foreign as my surroundings, as I haven't been here since childhood.
A mother will indulge her child's seemingly never-ending string of questions. She will come up with one acceptable answer after another for 'why?', 'how?', or 'what is?' (rarely 'what if?', or 'when did?' because those questions require an awareness from which they don't yet suffer). Sometimes she answers, "it doesn't matter, it just is." At this age, a child accepts her mother's authority. This is many years before adolescence when she suddenly knows everything.
In this new and unfamiliar place it has become an internal dialogue: posing a question, coming up with possible answers, and when none seems to satisfy my curiosity I decide it doesn't matter. It just is. And I realize, I am living in the present.
Gezelligheid is a Dutch adjective that describes my current emotional state. Look it up...
I arrived in Amsterdam, the Netherlands a few weeks ago, and this beautiful city will be my home for the next 18 months. I think it was after my first successful attempt (after a few futile ones) to navigate the tram system that I realized the magnitude of my current situation. I have achieved my goal.
A runner who beats a personal best time starts his next run with a desire to beat his new record. A team finds success when they defeat the opponent, but the challenge starts all over again in the next game. In both of these cases one can define exactly how, when, and by how much they have "won." In both of these cases the next step is clear; there is always another game to win, another time to beat. In both of these cases one comprehends the feeling of victory, for if they have not experienced it before they understand it through having been subject to its opposite: defeat.
Achieving a goal independent of outside factors is difficult to define, to quantify. I wasn't faster, stronger, or better than my previous self or someone else. I am not suddenly able to compare my performance to a baseline set by myself or others. And perhaps the most difficult and foreign feeling I've ever experienced: I don't know my next move. All I can do is just be.
The ability to live in the present and appreciate each moment does not come naturally. Or perhaps, like imagination and optimism, it fades with age. By setting and accomplishing a goal with no tangible reward aside from self-fulfillment, I have found myself back in the present. This state of consciousness is just as foreign as my surroundings, as I haven't been here since childhood.
A mother will indulge her child's seemingly never-ending string of questions. She will come up with one acceptable answer after another for 'why?', 'how?', or 'what is?' (rarely 'what if?', or 'when did?' because those questions require an awareness from which they don't yet suffer). Sometimes she answers, "it doesn't matter, it just is." At this age, a child accepts her mother's authority. This is many years before adolescence when she suddenly knows everything.
In this new and unfamiliar place it has become an internal dialogue: posing a question, coming up with possible answers, and when none seems to satisfy my curiosity I decide it doesn't matter. It just is. And I realize, I am living in the present.
Gezelligheid is a Dutch adjective that describes my current emotional state. Look it up...
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