Last August, we lived for a month in Mexico. I don't know Spanish, and my broadest memory of time there is that of trying to find how to act again when we returned home to Boston. I feel that I deferred the "learning about myself" to the return home when I would see which of the ideas I had, and which of plans regarding what to do to enjoy life more, stuck when they were thrown at the wall. I don't know why life felt so the same in Mexico but my plans felt only real and enactable where I came from. Even the trip there, the plane ride, felt like a simulation: you're home and then you're away in a matter of hours. It is amazing how little significance life can have when our experiences are convenient.
Last August, we lived for a month in Mexico. I don't know Spanish, and my broadest memory of time there is that of trying to find how to act again when we returned home to Boston. I feel that I deferred the "learning about myself" to the return home when I would see which of the ideas I had, and which of plans regarding what to do to enjoy life more, stuck when they were thrown at the wall. I don't know why life felt so the same in Mexico but my plans felt only real and enactable where I came from. Even the trip there, the plane ride, felt like a simulation: you're home and then you're away in a matter of hours. It is amazing how little significance life can have when our experiences are convenient.