Make it anywhere

 Dear future hubster,

Ever since that June afternoon when that guy who knew literally nothing about me declared (not that I asked) "you're not gonna last 6 months", I've been- defiantly,  nervously, angrily - watching the calendar every time I ended up somewhere new. Why he felt the need to share his unhelpful wisdom is unclear,  and by now, frankly,  unimportant.  That I reacted with raised eyebrows on the outside and "watch me" on the inside is no surprise, and that he was wrong is a fact. And it's been nearly ten years,  I do hold on to my grudges. 

Since then I've learned that 6 months really is not a long time - I did double that in a place that genuinely made me sick (was not fun, don't try it at home). And that lasting 6 months or a year or 15 is as much a matter of the circumstances as it is a continuous and conscious effort. That there is beauty in being new in a new place, and that beauty and excitement is very much a given, and it is very much guaranteed to fade with time. And that the beauty of the no longer being new in a new place,  conversely,  is not a given. It takes a lot of work, although that work itself is often fun and exciting and rewarding.  That making it past 6 months and more actually requires more curiosity and bravery than setting up shop initially did. And that there are always people to gently guide me, to nudge me, to walk with me.

I hope that random guy in random kitchen learned something similar since; that he's offering kinder wisdom to wide-eyed newbies like I once was. Like I still am, every now and again, on arrival or 6 months later.

(I am alway telling the same story, I know: Life is hard, and it is beautiful.)