Yesterday I got the confirmation of my stay in France. Good tidings that made me feel a different person immediately. There will be quail once again, and more, there will be cod fish to eat today. I could even buy another book.
And more than this, there will be no need to return to the old country. "Gazeta Wyborcza" has loosened its grip on my mind. I ceased to care, ceased to follow every single opinion article. Especially those predicting the emergence of a new class of paupers, of what we would be unable to buy.
In fact, my life might be consolidating right in the middle of the widening gyre. I might finally be cut from what has caused my stagnation in recent years: the habits of writing in Polish, publishing in Poland, trying to keep the things upright in Poland. No, things will never stand upright in Poland. I always knew it, and nonetheless I tried over and over and over again. In January, February, beginning March 2020, I was falling once again in the old trap. Writing in Polish again, preparing a lecture in PAU again. The virus cut the line in the last moment. If the pandemic didn't happen, all my European career might become an unfulfilled adventure very soon. Unwillingly, they might actually end up employing me at the Jagiellonian University. And I would be bogged, back to the very beginning of everything.
Instead, I'll be packing for Paris in a couple of months. That's a soft landing. And then I will make new projects, go to Oxford, as I always wanted. Stay in Vienna, in Emirates, even on Iceland. Have the life I always dreamed about, a house in Leiden, OK, at least in Alphen, included in the deal.
My dreams always used to come so smoothly to me. Because I dream so modestly? No, not at all. Nothing was modest there where I come from. Perhaps because I managed to identify very early the life I want and to which I was born. And I put my hand on it already as a child, in the eighth or ninth year of my life. Books, travels, foreign languages, knowledge and competence. And yes, I do believe I will be a decent Orientalist. That last dream will be fulfilled as well. And I say this after two months in which my cotton brain couldn't digest even a single new word of Arabic.
But now the ponderous albatross caught the draft under its wings once again. To cross half of the planet in a single flight.