Adventure. What is an adventure and is there a maximum or a minimum number of adventures one can or should undertake before a certain age? Now, I have been informed that we live our lives in cycles of seven years and at the start of one of these cycles I moved to this beautiful, dirty, expensive, enriching, confusing, exciting, tiresome, grey, colourful city called London. I chased my dream, shelved it, fell in love, got depressed, reinvented myself, re-found my sanity, my insanity and happiness. While embarking on another adventure, just recently entered yet another’ cycle of seven’, I started realizing that people I have known for at least a decade have become rather grown up. Serious jobs, serious commitments, motherhood, fatherhood. I myself have recently entered auntiehood by becoming the very proud aunt of my sister’s new born son Emmem.
I have been wondering the last few months if my childhood really fi-na-lly has come to an end with everyone around me becoming so grown up, MJ dying and me feeling like a tourist in my own country (which I left 7 years ago for London) which is a rather peculiar sensation I can tell you. While I am coming of age, apparently- I have always been a late bloomer- I am embarking on my next adventure. I am moving to that ancient, fertile city on the Mediterranean, home to one of the (non-remaining) ancient wonders of the world. With her centre of knowledge that burnt down to the ground in antiquity and was recently rebuild as an architectonical master piece and a modern world wonder. A city that has seen queens and kings come and go, the very last stop for the longest river in the world. A city built on and by legends, lost in obscurity she reinvented herself. Alex, dear Alex will be my next adventure. Isn’t all about reinvention?
I have known that I would be going for two years. It all seemed horribly exciting and very far away. I only started to dawn on me when I informed my landlord Jay, who is the best thumping landlord on the planet, five weeks before I left, that I would vacate the room I had been living in since I arrived in London. I loved the room, the House, the Street, the Neighbourhood and I also knew it was time to go. I will be back to the city and the Neighbourhood, insha allah. I probably will not return to The House although it has always been my dream to buy that house. That Jay would sell the house to me for the symbolic amount of one pound sterling. It is good to dream…
I am leaving. I am terribly excited and a bit scared. Excited about the opportunity to nail down those language skills, meeting new people, submerging in another culture, living a Mediterranean life style –yeah, baby yeah!- and acquiring new knowledge and wisdoms. I am scared because I set myself a fair bit of goals- it is that time in my life. Goal setting is fun and rather empowering. The process of goal achieving can be difficult, valuable, fun. Failing to achieve the goals one has set for oneself is painful. The last thing I want to learn from this year is that I am not clever, organized, disciplined, lucky, blessed or whatever enough to achieve my goals. But you don’t win if you ain’t playing so therefore I play.