Tirana was an accidental trip, a place I was surprised to find myself traveling to.
It turned out to be a perfect vibe and a perfect price for the amount of existential explorations I wanted to do.
And, as it is with existential explorations, I got more than I asked for, stretching the walls of my inner world and practicing my ability to hold it all.
The most interesting explorations are always those I don’t expect to have.
Tirana reminded me that it’s possible to be surrounded by nature and still feel far away from it.
I was coming there knowing that the city is surrounded by mountains, excited at the possibility that their presence might ground me, give me much needed solidity.
Yet despite the great view from our apartment, most days I found myself absorbed in thoughts, worries, and ideas, struggling to give the mountains the presence they needed from me.
The mountains just stood there as I shuffled between ignorance, entitlement, disappointment, and vulnerability long enough for me to realize that I needed to actually choose to be in a relationship with them if I wanted to feel them.
Not just look at them, but have an encounter with them.
Open my heart to them and let them touch me, instead of looking out the window expectantly, waiting for something to be done to me.
Tirana also showed me that I am afraid of heat.
I spent the first week stuck in a tension between wanting to go outside and being scared of exhaustion.
Perhaps my relationship with the sun is also a bit whimsical.
I praise it when it’s below 30 degrees and curse it when it’s above that.
It’s the same, life-giving sun though.
Why do I only love it when it’s pleasant and easy to be around?
I would judge myself for not being able to love that which is not easy to love.
After all, I aspire to do better.
And then one day, reassured by my boyfriend’s companionship, I went to a coffee shop where I sat under the shade of trees for hours and observed how my body adjusted to the heat.
There was an unexpected pleasure in the dreamy, soft, and puffy way my experience felt like there.
A few days later I found myself crying about how disconnected from nature I felt.
Releasing those tears made me lighter, ready to follow the sense of what I really wanted - to feel free to spend the day out by the lake instead of hiding in our apartment.
Opening myself up to another encounter with the heat, I was able to examine the fears that were holding me back and figure out if they were real.
Yes, the heat did impact me - I noticed a slight headache and it generally seemed to make me want to seek pleasure over productivity.
But I was fine, just like in that coffee shop the other day.
Perhaps more than a heatstroke I was avoiding this heat-induced shift in priorities.
The need to accept that actually, I don’t really feel like doing much and just want to lie here under the tree and look out at the mountains.
I felt one with the land with sweat on my body and dirt on my ankles.
I too am nature, I remembered.
A truth that did not seem so obvious in the presence of an artificial cooler in our apartment.
I was both grateful for AC and annoyed at how it subtly made me feel that I could control the heat.
I left Tirana in a rush, with a strong espresso in a takeaway cup splashing around my pants in a frantic taxi, barely making it to my flight.
Tirana feels a bit like a dream now.
It felt less like a travel destination and more like a low-budget set for a movie that is my life and I rented for two weeks to let the plot unfold some more.
I feel a bit embarrassed to admit I spent my time there mostly drinking coffee, thinking, crying, getting angry, punching keys on my laptop, making posters about my life, and being tentative about exploring things off the beaten path.
I know there is so much more beauty to see in that country.
But this must have been just what I needed.
I have a sweet spot for Tirana now.
Compared to my inner world which felt tumultuous e, I found solace in the predictability of weather, mountains, and the golden sunsets.
There was some patience in the city that helped me remember that what I was going through won’t last forever and that it’s all a part of a bigger, upward-trending cycle.
I’m struck by the thought that maybe I really was in Tirana.
Things got a bit more real for me there.
All photos courtesy of my boyfriend John who followed his sense of life 🫶