Is the grass greener on the other side?

Burnt out and discontented with life, I chose to leave behind my family, a career and life as I knew it to embark on a 'soul searching' trip. A trip which eventually extended to a permanent relocation. A move which changed my life completely. What had I hoped to find by leaving everything behind? Did I find the grass greener or life better than what I left behind?

Not sure if it was fortunate or otherwise, that I did not start with any real purpose. I did not have a course of action or any plan, other than I needed a break from everything I had known. I just drifted blissfully along. I am very grateful that I was able to do so with the support of a very dear friend. A dear friend who became a part of my life in the early years. He gave me a home and courage whenever I was in doubt about my decision. I cannot imagine, what I would have done, if I had been truly alone and aimless.

In my early days and years, life in a foreign country felt like a long, leisurely holiday. Every day was a new experience. New places to see. New people to meet. I was as interesting a specimen to the locals as they were interesting to me. I had no real responsibilities or commitments of any sort. I could write home and as shallow as it may seem, earned bragging rights about the novelty of my new life. At times, I did feel a prick of guilty conscience but lets just say, it didn't give me sleepless nights.

As I decided to make my residence status more permanent, I was fortunate to find employment and began to find my own feet, found and made some really good friends. In the process, I found I had to unlearn many things. More importantly, I found I needed to change the way I think, my approach to life in general and the way I relate to people. I had to stop making comparisons to what I know and what I was used to but truly respect, accept and acknowledge new experiences as they really are. I didn't just wake up one day and this realisation dawned upon me, it was through various personal and professional set-backs that I learnt I had to change. Change for someone who has lived 30 plus years did not come easy! At times, I even post rationalised and self-justified that there is nothing wrong with the way I do or say things or my expectations! So far, no one has yet to drag me by my hair to lead me anywhere I did not wish to venture but my pride and ego has been a little battered and bruised.

So it would not be truthful of me to say that I have found life to be easier, after having relocated to half way around the world. Life did get easier as I become more accustomed to the way people and things are. In a similar way, life got easier as others begin to understand me better. However, in reality, there will always be cultural differences and barriers that neither one of us could truly cross and understand. The question is how much compromises, respect and compassion we have for each other to accept these well ingrained differences?

Is life then better than what I had left behind? To say that life is better, would be unjust and disrespectful of the life I had before. This would mean, I am implying that my life before was of less value. In doing so I discredit where I come from, I discredit experiences and people who were part my life then. Then would I not be discrediting my history and would this not seem that I am ashamed of who I was? Would this imply then I was just running away from my past and hoping it will just go away?

Though there is a morsel of truth that I did runaway and escaped everything that binds me, I do feel privileged to have had eventful and memorable experiences that contributed to who I am today. Hence, I would be use the word 'better' only in the context that I have found a more balanced life as an outcome of my decision. It is 'better' because my life now allows me the opportunity to review my priorities in life and discover what actually matters to me. It is 'better' because my decision has humbled me.

The grass is not greener, just a different type of pasture and a different type of view to look at, to appreciate and to make it home.

Something about love

If we ask a child, whether he or she loves mummy and daddy, without a doubt the answer would be an affirmative ‘Yes’. In the same token, I know without a doubt that I care very deeply for my family even though it took me many years to verbally express my feelings to them. Perhaps, it was just not something my family did. We were just brought up to express love through fulfilment of our filial duties and expectations. So I must have accepted this concept of ‘love’ throughout most of my adult life. Nothing wrong with it, it seemed. Until something changed – I physically changed, my emotional and physical needs changed. Then my concept of ‘love’ went through an absolute revamped. Along the way, I collected a whole host of guilt-ridden, selfish pleasures and self-indulgent experiences all in the name of ‘love’. The irony is, I am none the wiser what ‘love’ means.

So what is this ‘love’ thing? How do we know what it meant when we were little? Did we learn this through our parents caring for us – taking away our ills, pains and bruises? Did we learn this because we know that there will always be someone we can go to who will provide us shelter, nourishment and protection when we needed it? Did we then internalised within us that 'love' is this unique and dependable bond between ourselves and one other or others who will fulfil most of our needs? Hence, ‘love’ is a function of what makes us feel good, secure and certain about life. If this is the case, does ‘love’ not just addresses a selfish need? ‘Love’ is not to do with the other or others, but our own attachment to what ‘feels right’ to us.

If ‘love’ is about fulfilment of our needs, then how can ‘love’ be sustained, if all those needs are met by something else or someone else? This could happen when a more fulfilling life is achieved through new interests, new personal goals and desires rendering some of our ‘love’ requirements unsatisfactory. After all, as individuals, we grow and change. We all grow up and leave home to pursue our own lives but we know our ties with our family remains. There is no sense of loss or insecurity that this ‘love’ will be lost to us.

What about adult relationships? Do we harbour the same feelings? I have many good friends whom I have grown up with and with whom I have shared many ups and downs. These friends I know will always be there for me in my time of need. However, I would not begrudge them or fear that our friendship would wane or just end. I would have no expectations of them to commit to me. I would be saddened if I lose that friendship through time but I can accept the inevitable. But I ‘love’ them, regardless.

Yet, I would less compassionate and definitely less forgiving with a partner, lover or spouse. There would be tantrums and tears. When such relationships end, there would be a deep sense of grief, wretchedness and obessive need to be morose and miserable. As if 'the world' has ended! Then eventually, I would see the light and decided - life goes on! Why should I feel this way? Surely, in the same token, such an adult relationship also falls into the same vein as my other relationships -it fulfils some human need. Surely, then I should not have expectations beyond those I have for my family and close friends.

So what is the difference? Why is one sort of relationship more fragile than others? Why am I more fearful of this fragility when I am more accepting of the rise and ebbs of other relationships in my life? I 'love' my family. I 'love' my friends and presumably, I 'love' my partner, lover or spouse. Even if understandly, the 'love' I feel are different - why do I behave, expect and react to each of these relationships differently?

This brings me back to the question – what is ‘love’ then? What do we mean when we say we 'love' someone? Do we still ‘love’ someone when that person no longer fulfils our needs? Also, as we are all so different, surely our definitions and expectations of what ‘love’ is differs and because of this, when people utter those words ‘I love you’ – they could mean different things. It is such thoughts that I grapple with, as I try to understand what ‘love’ really means to me. In this struggle, I realised with profound guilt, how I have often uttered the word ‘love’ without truly understanding what it meant to me and worse still, what my declaration meant to others.

Perhaps, 'love' has crept so easily into our lives that it never occurred to me the real significance of saying ' I love you'. I could blame it on the heady chemical reaction in my brain, the production of serotonin that blinds me, and caused me to be totally irresponsible, irrational.The first bite of a deliciously wicked bar of dark chocolate could be the cause. The first stolen kiss maybe? The thrill of physical desire? The pair of shoes, I just have to have? The absolutely gorgeous specimen of a human being who seems to be attracted to me sets my heart racing? The gentlest touch of a good friend? The reassuring smile and hug?And the list goes on...'love' is all around, surely?

So, I suppose, one can summise that I am shallow when it came to 'love'. Anything that sets my heart racing or that gave me that 'lift', I would love and obsessed about. However, in recent years, I have been challenged to review what 'love' means. I feel rather liberated, if not a bit ashamed to admit that I have never truly 'loved' anyone before. I loved the idea that I did. I could not have 'loved' because I never knew what that meant. 'Love' for me has always been about me. Perhaps, if I stop externalising and projecting what makes me happy or what gratifies me, I will finally learn and understand, what 'love' truly means.

Waiting for a knight in shining armour?

Yes, that is such a cliche. Being independent grown women, we should know better than to even entertain such a thought! However, does that stop us from longing for that special someone who will protect us and soothe our souls? Someone who may not be a gallant knight in the traditional sense, but someone we know we could totally trust to respect us and who will care deeply for us. This is despite not quite understanding why we feel the way we do at times and despite not having a clue what we are going on and on about when the solutions are so blatantly obvious to them!

So why then, is it so difficult to find this modern knight? Is it perhaps, we strive too hard to be strong and independent, that we cannot or don't know how to surrender our lives to being co -dependent on someone else. Is it because, relationships are more fragile these days and we have convinced ourselves from the onset that there are no guarantees? If there are no guarantees, why should we then put all our hopes and fears into the hands' of another, only to know that either party can just walk away and start all over somewhere else or with someone else.

Is the problem than not with finding the knight (assuming he is the right one!) but truly accepting that our knights in the harsh light of reality are flawed and can be totally infuriating at times but we can't imagine life without them? Yes, this means putting up with the trail of mess they tend to leave behind or the boisterious mates who seem to hang around long after the beers are all gone! Yes, it also means the not so sexy, attempts at getting our endorphins charged when all we want to do is crawl under the duvet and cuddle up to sleep. This is when we scream in our heads...we don't have an automatic switch that says push 'on' and 'off' when one wants to play.

Perhaps, we do over complicate things by expecting too much, giving too little or giving too much, and expecting too little that we become cynical and wary of finding that knight in shining armour. Or we should hold our heads up high and subscribe to the principle that why should we settle for any less.. as one commercial says 'Because we are worth it!'