moving, returning, and life goals

I fly out of Taoyuan International Airport tomorrow, on a trip that will take me to China, Los Angeles, Chicago, and finally Columbus, Ohio.

I cannot believe it's been a year.

Packing is annoying. There's always more that you want to take than you think you even have, and once you start trying to put it all into a suitcase, the difference between "stuff" and "available space" quickly becomes apparent. You also begin to realize how many things you have left to do; things you need to throw away, things you need to donate, things you need to recycle, things you need to give away to people. You stare at the mess your bed and floor have become and wonder how you'll ever excavate anything but frustration and tears out of it.

I think I'm about 50 or 60% finished. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll have to pay an overweight fee on my suitcase again; that's just how it goes. I still have to buy a guitar case for the guitar I still barely play. (I WILL PLAY IT, though. I will.) I have to go to the post office and pack some things up to ship, because they won't fit in my suitcase and they're too heavy, anyway. (Dress jackets and books.) Once my laundry dries, I have to pack that up, too.

A friend is arriving in two hours to pick up my mattress, so once that's out I have to put my bed back together. (I took the frame off six months ago, my bed is just two stacked mattresses.)

I'm writing this mostly for myself, to calm myself down and remember everything I have to do, and reassure myself that I will get it done. I've gotten more complicated things than this finished before, although probably not so many little things at ONCE. I'm mostly worried that my landlady will show up tomorrow and tell me I can't leave certain things here, like my space heater or the oven that NO ONE who emailed me has bothered to set a time to pick up. Also some blankets and pillows. I really hope it's okay I leave these things because I have nothing else to do with them.

What helps me deal with the thought of leaving what's been my home for a year is realizing that this doesn't have to be my last time in Taiwan. I can come back to Taipei, return to Ximen, stroll through Shida's night market again, travel with Taipei MRT and the bus system in the future. I don't have to be finished here if I don't want to be.

I have a lot of thing I intend to accomplish in my life. One is "learn to play an instrument" (hence my clinging to the guitar), and another is "learn a foreign language" (my chosen one is Japanese). "Move to Japan" is forthcoming, I hope, and "cover my passport book with stamps" is well on its way.

"Be confident in myself" is an achievement I consider unlocked, as is "be proud of myself." These things I was never able to say with much conviction; there was always a bit of a question mark after it, like, "I'm proud of myself, I guess?" or "I'm confident, maybe?"

Now, the difference is that I know I'm capable. I've done things that I'm damn proud of, things that no one can take away from me. I'm confident about who I am, about what like, about what I enjoy and what makes me happy. I'm okay, for once in my life, if "me" isn't what people want or expect. I'm okay with my mistakes, genuinely proud of what I've done and what I do, and even though I have lingering doubts and anxieties, I no longer think for a moment that they define me or will hold me back. They're no longer bigger than the part of me that knows I can do this.

Coming to Taiwan was, for me, a last-ditch effort to not be scared anymore. To not fear my future. I had looked at my life, had looked at where I'd been and where I was headed and I knew I'd die unsatisfied with my life if something didn't drastically change. I changed it. I made the change, and I am happier and better and freer for it, and although it won't be the last thing I do (if anything, it's the first) it has filled me up with a joy and hope for my life I never quite had before. I had dreams, I had mad hopes, and I had a fiery belief that somehow, I could have that life that I wanted, but I never knew if I ever would.

This year, I did.

Now let's get me home, feed me some food, hug me a lot, and then ship me off to Japan!

kids

Kids. I have definitely gone a 180 on how comfortable I feel around kids.

I've always sort of known that I liked kids, but they freaked me out because I had so little experience interacting with them. What's nice about my job is that I've basically gotten a crash-course in interacting with children of all ages, and even though these kids are from the other side of the planet, I'm pretty sure the fundamentals are the same.

Basically the best students ever.

What has pleasantly surprised me is that I enjoy interacting with kids. Where I used to be unsure of myself around them before, the more time I spend teaching my own kids, the more I find myself actively engaging any kids who display interest in interacting with me. If they're staring at me on the elevator, I smile at them. If they try to talk to me, I talk to them. If they seem unsure, I smile and let them come over if they want, or not.

Liz is active and engaging on her own, and does not require encouragement.

Last week a little girl (couldn't be more than 5 years old, if that) at Starbucks stood a few feet back from my chair looking at me messing on my iPod. I pulled up the game Fruit Ninja and offered it to her to play. Her parents were like, "Yeah, go ahead, it's okay," so she messed with my iPod a bit and tried to talk to me. I used what little Chinese I knew, but I'd say English too, and the look on her face when I used English was hilarious; it was like I'd suddenly started making duck noises. We made faces at each other and established I was "meiguo ren," an American. The whole interaction was short, but it made me completely happy.

I like being a "good foreigner experience" for kids. Or even just a "good stranger experience," because you have to be careful of strange people, but you also can't go through life mistrusting everyone. I think it's good for kids to have pleasant interactions with unknown adults, so they don't view the world as a menacing, hurtful place. I think it's important to encourage a child's sense of discovery and curiosity. I see kids as works-in-progress. We're all works-in-progress, continuously evolving and upgrading, but kids much more so. Part of me has a blast being even a small part in a kid's adventure in growing up.

One thing I've learned from these kids is how important it is to listen to them. Everyone says it; it's practically common knowledge, and yet you really can forget how important it is to take the time to let them really, truly express themselves. Because they won't leave you guessing. They spend a lot of time taking things in, and because of that, they have plenty to tell you.

I explained the definition of "awesome" and gave them five minutes to write examples.

They had a few ideas.

The one thing I always try to do around my kids is assume they have something to teach me. They never stop impressing me with their insight, their humor, and their very strong senses of self.

I'm going to miss my kids. I've had wonderful experiences with them and they have definitely taught me a lot more than I've taught them. I hope their new teacher at Shane gives them the respect and dignity they deserve, and readily acknowledges how awesome they are. Without these kids, I wouldn't have realized how much I enjoy teaching, and I wouldn't feel so confident going into a new teaching job (when I get it) in Japan.