#1 LETTING GO

It's the end of December 2021. I am in my apartment, the first one after moving out from home. After some Christmas celebrations and time with the family, things have quieted down a bit, fitting the dark and cold weather outside. I am escited to hide a bit, recharge bevore the new year comes around. But today, I won't be alone; I'm hosting a good old friend. We've known each other for a long time, but due to the demands of adulthood, earning a living, getting degrees and surviving in the real world, we haven't seen each other in ages.

Our last real conversation was almost exactly a year ago, also around Christmas. We are excited about the possibility of starting a tradition, but a few hours into the conversation, it becomes clear: I feel stuck. My life and myself seem to be running in circles. No doubt, it's comfortable and safe; I'm healthy, have a functioning environment and a relationship. However, it doesn't completely fulfill me.

It's a bit of a dilemma:

Financially, I am secure. I love my part-time job at the second-hand store. It's everything I could ask for as an employee. My main job is fine, but I have no interest in going full-time, let alone pursuing a career there.

I am part of many social circles and also still in contact with old classmates. I have friends and acquaintances everywhere, but only a few are truly close friendships. Some seem to be mere byproducts of shared hobbies or circles. Sure, I can have good times, fun, and even some deep conversations with everyone, but with a few people, I can't shake the feeling of being out of place. I often feel generally welcome but not truly appreciated.

Within the family, everything is superficially good. And superficial is how it will be most of the time.

Renting my apartment is the best thing I could have done. Everything I love doing is here: my photo studio, the fully equipped kitchen, arts and crafts supplies, my dance pole and yoga mat, more than enough space for guests, and all of this in the personally speaking best location in the city. Every person who visits tells me how great my place is. And I know it, too - still, I don't fully utilize it. The times I've used my backdrop and softboxes can be counted on two hands. Except for rare experiments, I only cook a rotation of my comfort foods, creative projects start enthusiastically, just like workout plans... but sticking to them is hard, just like maintaining order.

In summary, my life feels like untapped potential.

I share many of these feelings with my friend, and we reflect. He seems to have thoughts on a solution and makes assessments that stick with me and confirm my inner thoughts.

Yes, I want and should get out of here. Yes, it's time. Yes, I have to just do it.

I accept all these insights and make the plan to improve my situation a priority, fueled by the encouragement and the feeling of being understood. It's clear; I want to venture out into the world. While I had occasionally toyed with the idea of traveling again, it never seemed like the right time. I had waited for the perfect moment to present itself instead of ensuring that it happens. I had made it dependent on a hundred external things, when and how it should happen, without listening to the inner call for adventure.

So, I embark on the planning. Initially, only the main questions grace my page:

Where? When? How long?

Where is not really a question for me. Since my first visit to Australia, I know I will return. Fortunately, I am still in contact with a friend there who almost takes it for granted that he will be my first station.

When becomes clear relatively quickly. The only real commitments I have are rehearsals for the theater starting in January and the performances in the summer. Also, the festival in August, where I'm involved in organizing. Apart from that, I'm free. I realize slowly that even years-long jobs and rental agreements can be terminated within a letter.

The answer regarding the time frame proves to be the most challenging. I oscillate between a very, very long vacation, six months, or booking a one-way ticket with the rough idea of a year. Every option has pros and cons: the shorter the trip, the better I can maintain my comfort zone in Germany. It would be simple to continue to pay the rent for the unused apartment for a few weeks and taking unpaid leave just to have that reassuring feeling that everything will be just how I left it once I return. But wait a second. I catch myself trying to hold on to every single thing in my life. The question of why joins my thoughts. Why do I want to hold on to what is the reason for the urge to leave? I recall the insights from that crucial conversation a little while ago and finally, on a regular evening alone at home, book my one-way flight with the mindset "Fuck it." Nothing more.

So, I decide on early October, just in time to escape the cold weather in Germany. The first destination will be my buddy's residence down under: Townsville, a rather unspectacular, medium-sized town on the northern east coast.

The outgoing four-digit amount from my account to the airline makes it real. I feel liberated, almost as if I had heard the starting gun after months of exhausting training and could simply start running, relieved of tension and the racing head full of fears and excuses. I inform my Australian friend; we share the joy and excitement and start counting the days until our reunion. I am not worrying about all the organizational aspects, applying for the visa, resignation letters and bureaucratic processes at this moment; the long countdown allows me to participate in my beloved procrastination.

But today, I realize that, in that moment, I had done exactly the opposite: I had stopped procrastinating. I had ended the procrastination of arguably the biggest and most important decision of my life. Now it was not procrastination anymore; it was the tried-and-true approach of "one thing at a time".

Two years later, I still occasionally think back to the conversation that set everything in motion. I don't owe my old friend the idea for the whole thing, but the courage and conviction to finally tackle it.

I think this Christmas, I'll give him a call.