Unknown Quantities

Most of the time, I love the variety of my life. Sometimes, however, it can be very disorienting.

I'm having one of those weeks. Not bad, actually--just surreal. This time last week, I was firmly tucked into a tour of an opera I know like the back of my hand. I was required to sing my part in that opera 3 or 4 times per week. I spent every day with the same people, who were likewise employed to perform on (or manage) the tour. I had a schedule. I knew exactly what was expected of me and how to fulfill those expectations. I got paid regularly. Life was simple.

Now, less than a week after the tour is over, I am suddenly living in Switzerland. I am writing this from my new bedroom in Basel, which is sparsely but lovingly decorated by me with items bought two days ago at Ikea. I have made plans to live for at least the next 4 months in a city where I know nobody, have no contacts or job, and don't speak the language. My life is no longer simple.

What am I doing???

I should admit that all this madness was planned by me, and has a kind of method. I've moved into my friend Kevin's apartment. Kevin is away singing alot, so he's sublet a bedroom to me at a price I can afford, and I will forever be grateful. He and my mother both were here to help me move in on Monday. I've moved to Basel with the hope of making musical contacts in Europe. My goal (necessarily so, I think) is vast in its scope, nebulous and open-ended. I don't have the foggiest idea where this adventure will lead me or how long it will take (or even what it will look like if I ever achieve it!). All these unknown quantities are freaking me out a little.

Everything is suddenly messy: no schedule, nobody to report to, no expectations except my own. I am building the framework of this production as I go, as opposed to being a cog someone else's production. I liked being a cog. The pay was better, for starters!

What am I DOING???

I keep asking myself this question. Over and over again. I began asking it, I think, when I realized that all my friends and colleagues who were on the tour with me are now at home with their families, posting pictures of tour on Facebook, and moving on with their real lives. I asked it at the Ikea as I picked out a new comforter cover, and recognized the fabrics of covers I already own at "home" in Philadelphia. I asked it this morning, sitting at the tram stop with a map in my lap, listening to people speaking German that sounded like Dutch, and Italian that sounded like German, and not understanding a word of any of it.

Being a cog is much less lonely. In a good production, there are lots of cogs to rub up against. So far, my Swiss production is just me.

WHAT AM I DOING???

I guess the only answer I can give is that I'm following that brave kernel of my imagination that can see past the unknown quantities. When I am not worrying about how to meet these people I've come all the way here to meet, all the money I'll spend in the process and how lonely I'll be when Mom goes home--when I'm not trying to write the end of this story before it begins, I can see that this might be a good thing for me. It will make me stronger if I let it. I think that this Swiss adventure has something to teach me--maybe many things.

The first thing I'm learning is that the unknown is scary to me. Maybe this chapter of my life will teach me to enjoy the page I'm on, and not to worry so much about how the story will end. The glory of this story might just be in the writing of it.