Feeling more like myself…

I’m American, which influences a lot of my identity and personality. One of the things that I think makes me “really American” is my need to work. As much as I try to shake it and be okay with time off or working part time, I can’t help but feel like a jerk if I’m not busting my ass for a full 40 each week. This tight connection between a job and my sense of self worth has been a source of a lot of angst for me over the past six months and the many shades of gray each day pumps out here in the winter doesn’t help. 

Well, I’m sorry to say I still haven’t gotten past my need to work to feel like a useful member of society, but I am happy to say that I’ve gotten a job in The Netherlands. In my field. It’s shaping up to be a dream position and I’ll talk more about it later, but suffice it to say I’m feeling more like myself and certainly more hopeful. I’m continuing my part-time work with clients in the U.S., which is great, but it feels like a pretty hefty accomplishment to have signed a contract in a new country. Giant hurdle jumped. 

Oh, and today I applied to grad school. I’m mentally preparing to be that person I used to be in college - the one with eight million things going on. It’s going to feel good. I just need to pencil in time to make dinner…

Running toward nothing

I’ve always been one of those people that starts things and never finishes them, whether it’s new year’s resolutions, plans to study Dutch every day, or promises to write every morning. Without a job to rush to and a sun to wake up to, it’s quite easy for the hours in my day to wither away. With every dusting of snow and blanket of gray, I seem to yawn endlessly, coaxing myself to “just get through these months.” 

But the other day, in the midst of one of those nothing days I was sure I’d forget even happened, I decided to put on my running shoes. I’ve gone running in sweltering, 100-degree temperatures with the help of a water-filled backpack, but never have I faced running during sub-freezing temperatures, surrounded by fields of untouched snow. This is beginning to sound like I’m an actual “runner” when in reality I’m one of those people that has bouts of running before faltering and going without fitness for months at a time. Another one of those things I start and never finish. 

Despite being a lethargic couch potato that would much rather write, listen to podcasts, and knit during the winter, I ventured out with a Couch to 5k podcast and bundled myself up as best I could. It was cold during my brisk warm-up walk and the first few minutes of running felt like icicles were piercing my lungs, but I pushed on, determined to feel productive somehow and not let that day become another forgotten memory. 

As I listened to bad hip-hop and powered through intervals of running and walking, I took in the scenery around me. At one point on the run the path follows a cow pasture on the left and a duck-filled canal on the right. The snow on the field was completely untouched and looked like cake icing while the fog floated just above it making you feel like you’d just woken up, making me rub my eyes just a bit in hopes of a focus that would never come. While his work isn’t really my taste, it looked like a Thomas Kincaid holiday card you’d receive from your car dealer or some other empty sender. In that moment, for the first time in quite a while, I was appreciating the beauty of this winter, something I’ve wished away every morning when I check the forecast. As I ran and my hands began to sweat inside my newly-knit mittens, I was warm enough to enjoy the world around me. I stopped for a moment to stare at the sad black cows I usually see in the pasture. They huddled together in the snow, eating hay, their breaths forming puffs of smoke with every chew. 

At that point I turned around to make the run back home. In that first run after so many months there is a hope that almost certainly dissipates the moment you recognize it. A hope that maybe I’ll be something I’ve never been after so many years of trying. 

Unearthing old passions

Winter is just not my season. Try as I might, I just can’t learn to love sweater weather, gray skies, and holiday music. My first inclination is to stay in the apartment on the couch reading or writing and wait it out. But then I feel guilty about turning into a hermit and I try to pull myself out of it, often unsuccessfully. 

However, I did have a wonderful day recently where I managed to yank myself out of hibernation to meet some new people and saw, for just a moment, what kind of life could be possible if I would just push myself to live it. I traveled by train (all by myself!) to Rotterdam to meet with a friend I met on Twitter. Back in America I was part of an art and craft collective known as the 7 Cities Crafters and was always around someone making something. I’ve been missing that and set about searching for similar groups in The Netherlands. I bombed Etsy and Ravelry boards and connected with Ballee. We decided to meet up for some tea and knitting in Rotterdam. 

I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to be doing something so familiar in my new, still very unfamiliar, country. I battle often with trying to make myself comfortable, as if I were back home, and embracing the novelty of my new home. But sometimes, in a rare moment, the two just mesh perfectly into a hybrid existence that’s comfortable and new at the same time. My hope is to find that feeling in other parts of my life, but knitting and chatting at a cafe in Rotterdam over tea gave me a taste of what could be - I just have to be willing to climb out of my shell and do it. 

That same day I met with a teacher from an international school in Rotterdam to chat education and the challenges of being a foreigner in a new place. It felt right to be around another educator, sharing my ideas and fears. I got a lot of practical, veteran advice about job hunting and working in an international school, which is something I can now do legally thanks to my residency permit. Though I haven’t actually gotten the card since the postal system has been on strike here. Still waiting. 

I’ve found my old passion of knitting and crochet and I’m taking this time I have and using it to try new things. So often I was content with making scarves and dish towels because they’re easy and square and mindless, but I’ve reached beyond those things to challenge myself with a cowl and a set of mittens. Maybe I’ll try socks next. Or even a sweater. I’m at a point in this craft where I’m starting to understand how certain stitches work to create objects and garments. Before I was just the sort of knitter that learned a stitch and did it when I came across it in a pattern, not really understanding why the author included that stitch where she did. Now I’m starting to get those decisions, which is quite freeing. It’s the same feeling I got in cooking when I discovered I’d turned into one of those people who could cook just by feel and taste rather than follow a recipe. Instead of seeing a pattern as a limiting thing that I must absolutely follow, I’m now seeing a pattern as a guide within which I can make my own decisions. I will refrain from making some sort of metaphor about my evolving experience and worldview here, but just know I’m thinking about it. 

PS: If you’re ever hungry in Rotterdam, check out De Oude Plek. It’s near the Lombardijen station and you can fill your belly with delicious, vegetarian Chinese food for a decent price. It’s on my list of places to take mom when she visits next year. 

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