Ever done a deal with the devil?
Seeking out a new life isn’t really that different from shaking hands with the bad man himself. I mean, sure, you’re set for some pretty good times ahead, but at what expense? You’re letting yourself in for a generous dose of heartbreak, hurt and regret that you’ve created through your own selfish pursuit. You’ll anger family, upset friends, annoy employers, even confuse the poor cat and dog. And you, yourself, are about to face a world of fears that could have been avoided if you’d just stayed home and towed the line.
So, in the single-bloody-minded pursuit of this dream of yours, you’ll take Beelzebub’s hand, shake it firmly, and head off into the unknown to face a whole host of other unknowns. You’ll face the fear of an unknown culture, fear of a new job, fear of learning alien customs and traditions, and perhaps the greatest fear of all: not even succeeding in this exciting adventure of yours.
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| Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons dryhead |
For me, my greatest fear was none of the above. It wasn’t even a good ole Englishman’s fear of the Australian snake, the terrifying white pointer or those fat, tender spiders that call the underneath of my antipodean house ‘home’. My greatest fear when I decided to set out upon this adventure of ours was the perceived distance I’d place myself from my parents and sibling, friends and long-time acquaintances, both physically and emotionally.
I knew that packing up my life and moving to a new country would be rife with unknowns. Yet, however unfounded, the thought of leaving my immediate family behind left me tossing and turning in the night. It was my worst nightmare of sorts. It was the lone thing I’d dreaded from the point I put in my visa application. What would I do if my parents or sister got sick? How would I cope with the bad news? Who would I turn to in a strange new country? How could I ever hope to get home quickly enough?
It wasn’t just the distance in kilometres that provided my increasing anxiety but also the effect of distance on the quality of my relationships with friends and family left behind. As the years passed, would I become a stranger to my own family? Would I struggle to connect with friends as the visits home grew less frequent and the space and awkwardness between us grew ever more?
I imagined all sorts of outcomes. I predicted the worst possible happenings. My fears manifested themselves via situations running through my head where my parents were left alone and unable to care for themselves while I gallivanted around the world. My sibling would grow angry and disappointed at my exciting new lifestyle, now full of abandon and little regret, while she dutifully looked after my mother and father as a son or daughter always should.
Guilt regularly knocked at my door to become an ever-present force in my daily life. I often held back in those early expat years, preferring to spend any free time on the telephone or email to people back home always justifying my reasons for being in a new country and forever apologising for my continuing absence. Initially I became withdrawn, outwardly pretending to enjoy the experiences around me, but silently suffering from this fear of being so far from my home. I daydreamed often, thinking of my past life and contemplating at what point I should return.
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| Image: Flickr Creative Commons durera_toujours |
Call it separation guilt or just plain nonsense, I found the immense distance from loved ones unsettling and unnatural. In Canada, we were located far from the UK but it wasn’t an impossible, insurmountable distance, just a single non-stop flight back. However, Australia was an altogether different proposition. Australia was the other side of the world. Timezone differences were vast. The distance from the UK was absurd. We were that far away that the seasons were in reverse. How would I cope with facing my long held fear of the distance from family and friends?
It’s been five years in Australia now. Five years of life on the other side of the planet. Five years of life lived a 24-hour plane ride from my family home. Five years of distance between my new life here and my old life there. Have I faced my fear and dealt with it? Is there a happy ending to my issues with distance and accompanying feelings of guilt?
Of course I still fear the day when I might receive bad news from afar and I’m not best pleased with a one or two-day journey to see loved ones, but I’ve learned to deal as best I can with the vast physical distance. There’s not much more I can do and it is what it is. I focus on the positives and remind myself that, wherever I live my expat life, I will always be at least a plane ride away so I cross my fingers and touch my toes and hope that I’ll never need to put that fast and frantic plane ride home to the test.
The emotional distance from families and friendships is more difficult to gauge but has grown over the years as ‘out of sight, out of mind’ rings ever truer. I fear the disconnect to my homeland and feel old relationships slipping from my grasp. I am that guy who left a long time ago and didn’t come back. The emails have since dried up, even though true friends revealed themselves whilst poor friendships failed the test early on. Yet distance is a part of who I am and where I am, even though it might not always be this way.
Distance is a funny thing. I craved the chance to travel far afield but, when faced with its unnerving implications, my first instinct was to run right back. I’ve overcome this obstacle but I will always need to face my fear, reaffirming deep down the reasons for our remarkable journey. Because, through this amazing adventure, we have embraced a new life, an unexpected life, a wonderful life, and our life alone… and we must never forget this achievement, no matter how far and wide the distance may be.
Have you had to face any fears in pursuit of a new life? If so, how did you overcome them – or didn’t you?
Wow Russell, that was some post! Straight from the gut. I hear you. There’s a lot of stuff there that resonates with me but your biggest fear, about the distance both geographical and emotional (relationship-wise) is what reinforced a major life-lesson for me.
Your fear was my realisation, that recurring theme throughout our lives, that there is no going back…once you change and grow, you can’t get back to where you were before. It first hits as adolescence engulfs us – we can never return to the simplicity and innocence of childhood, what we know we can’t unknow. It’s the same when we leave a life behind. Even if we return to it, we won’t be the same people, we’ll occupy a different shaped space, see things in a new way, interact with people differently. Unfortunately, (or perhaps, luckily) this realisation usually follows, rarely precedes.
But such is life! Bittersweet. For all the things we lose, there are gains to be made and appreciated, perspective is what we need to keep us on an even keel, not a motionless, static life. Some things happen despite our best efforts. When the time comes that a loved one is passing, if you didn’t live there, you would probably have been on holiday in Oz… In the wise words of Master Uguay, “One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.” Kung Fu Panda. Hugs & good vibes from Canada!
Thanks, Kristin. And please do keep producing those writing prompts which always provide a great source of inspiration and creativity!
The only other thing in life I can think of that compares to this and which may have created a similar fear factor was when I headed off to university.
Typically, English kids study away from their home town or city – in my case, it was a university based two hours away or 160 kilometres. At the time, I was mortified at the prospect of being cast out into this big, scary world, forced to make my own decisions, live independently, and reside far from the comfort of close family and school friends. It became a ‘sink or swim’ situation – if you failed, you came home tail between your legs and went back to your former life. If you succeeded, you had the prospect of a fantastic five years of study, socialising and opportunity laid out in front of you.
Given the only outcome in my mind, I got my head down and went for it. The fear of distance and disconnect became a secondary issue and almost non-existent given the preoccupation with my learning and daily survival. The ‘expat’ conundrum was more difficult, perhaps given my age and time spent nurturing and developing relationships, perceived responsibilities to family, and the fact that the international move wasn’t a necessity, it was a choice. And one which was perceived as a selfish choice by some.
Thanks for the congrats on 5 years here. It has passed in a flash. A typically stinking hot Australian flash, but a flash nonetheless 🙂
Hey Russell,
I feel every keystroke of pain, anxiety and guilt you’re writing about. But, I’ve been an expat since 1993 and have gotten into a comfortable routine with family and lifelong friends back home. It wasn’t easy but, as you’ve also discovered, the real friends love to hear about my adventures (and challenges) and look forward to my visits home twice a year . And, those who are jealous or angry that I’m not there anymore and am ‘living the life of Riley’, or those who were more acquaintances than friends, have fallen by the wayside. I adore my family and close friends and every time I go home I think it would be easy to fall back into the routine of living there…then I wake up. Maybe some day, but we’re onto a new adventure in Phuket now!
Happy Trails!
Anne
Hey Anne,
Thanks for dropping by – really do appreciate your insights into the longer and wiser expat life you’ve lived!
I’m hearing you on all fronts – it’s probably more about a change in attitude (becoming more positive) than anything else. Valuing what it is that expat life brings you and how it reinforces and improves some relationships whilst the others that weren’t really worth holding on to just float away…
I’m pleased you at least get to visit the homeland twice a year. It’s a little far here for us to return that often but I try for every 12 months if I can.
Happy trails to you too and hope to see you here again soon 🙂
Russell
Dear Russell, what an amazing blog. I cam on it quite by accident looking at moving overseas myself. I am about to sell house, leave job and live in S.E Asia, and I am sometimes a little scared that I am absolutely mad but for some reason I can’t see another option in my life path, my heart tells me life is short and I don’t want to be on my death bed regretting it, but there are of course all the fears you talk about. Thanks for sharing Jules
Thanks so much, Jules. Appreciate your comments and I’m pleased you find the blog useful and hopefully interesting. I’m curious – whereabouts did you stumble across it?
I’ve had – and am still having – so many fears associated with life lived overseas but it does all come down to living your own life and having no regrets. This is what I tell myself when things get tough. Plus I see friends at home bored and depressed but unwilling to face their fears and take a few risks. It reminds me why I chose to do so.
Hope to see you over here again – and good luck with the move!
African immigrants in search of a better life endure that fear all the time. I did when I was relocating with my family to the states over 12 years ago. But I adjusted. it was not easy at first, but I had my family.. I know people who immigrated to the states without even knowing anyone, simply sleeping in the streets till they found a job. one friend of my brothers landed in Maryland USA with just a knap sac and he found my brothers name in a phone book or facebook I am not too sure and emailed him and told him his story. that was 8 years ago. the guy is now getting his PH.D and is a nurse, Has his own home and got married in october. Adventure is not for the timid, but it holds great reward for those who can face it.
It most certainly is not for the timid and it sure does hold great reward. Appreciate your insights and comment. Very interesting!
Your post resonated with me alot, I have been away from ‘home’ nearly 6 years and I have had to deal with the fact that I wanted to be home to help when things were rough and I allowed it to depress me. I realise I was only spreading negativity and not helping at all. Now I practice acceptance and surrender.
Hi Marie, thanks for stopping by. The act of positive thinking is a powerful thing (this is me getting ‘deep’) and has certainly helped me. Being back at home won’t stop bad things happening so I try to enjoy my life where I am now and hope that things will never get too rough there.