So after 8 years, here I am back in London, England, pondering about what to do with my life. It's a little strange to think about it - after all, I am supposed to be at an age where I should be pretty much settled into life and building on it.
At a nice old-ish age of 32, I suppose part of me feels a little...under-accomplished. After all, I have peers who are pretty much popping their second or third child and are in a totally different phase from where I'm at (I mean, not that I'm too enthralled by the tremendous amount of time and thought they spend into talk about things like breast pumps). On the other hand though, their transition into this phase of motherhood and wifeivities (if that's a word) is also quite captivating in how selfless their new roles can be... and thinking about it makes me feel a little juvenile, or even selfish, about where I'm at. But I suppose all humans have their stories to tell and rates of "growth" perhaps? I wonder how God chooses for some 32 year olds to be married, some to have children, some to be divorced, some to have crazy adventures in life, some to have boring day jobs (and happily contented with them), and some to be sitting in an apartment in the middle of the night in Central London thinking about what the hell to do with their lives by writing on their blogs.
Interesting fact of the day: There actually is a website devoted to people in such situations which is hilariously at www.wtfshouldidowithmylife.com. Yes, I stumbled upon it as a tried to summon the powers of the internet to tell me what to do with my life. Yes, it's pathetic. No, you don't have to chide me about it - I've already done that in depth to myself in the past few hours. I am quite self-managing like that.
But yes, back to feeling under-accomplished.
Aaaand...now we're stress eating clementines and salted popcorn from Tesco's.
Oh life, why are you so hard to deal with?
*cue sad depressing music which is irritating me just thinking about it*
I think part of the problem with me is possibly my bouts of forgetting to be grateful.
Looking back at just the past two weeks, I actually have SO much to be grateful for.
For one, I just got back from a week-long trip to Finland yesterday. It was pretty much a "mission" holiday as I was helping with my cousin's surprise proposal to his now-fiancee (success!). Still, beyond the mission, it was a pretty amazing time. I skiied for the first time (crashed so many times, but still loved it). I drove a Husky sled on a 3km route in the snow (and I now have a cute Husky mushing license to prove it). I went polar bear diving (is that what it's called?) in an ice hole in sub-zero temps. Bonus that I am still alive after all that crazy stuff I did. Who knew that I'd get to spend both Christmas and the New Years of 2015 in Finland? And now, I'm back in London for a week.
I should be grateful.
I should be grateful that I still have my dad. I think I would have died if I lost him to the heart attack. My father is very precious to me.
I should be grateful for my family. There are so many people without, or with troubled ones... and it really puts a strain on managing life.
I should be grateful that I even can be in this position where I am stressed over not knowing what I want to do with my life - as it comes with the luxury of having choices.
Looking back over Facebook and Instagram in the past year surprised me quite a bit. For one, all the travelling that happened - including Malaysia, Hawaii, Chicago, New York, China, and now Finland and England. How did all that happen in 2015? And with all that travelling came with it reunions, conversations, experiences, and memories.
I should be grateful.
It doesn't belittle the question of what I should do with my life. But, if anything, I suppose it helps me have some perspective into being a little more patient as I tackle the question. Hopefully, by the end of my stay here, I'd have some perspective in what I should do... and how I should get there.
In the meantime, I shall strive to enjoy the English tea and cookies in what little time I have left here.