I cannot help but admit I am having second thoughts about returning to China. There is the inevitable voice of self-doubt, and I must decide whether it is just that -- self-doubt -- or realism. Much like my initial departure, I am very much unsure of what to expect of the future.

Trying to recapture and gauge the discouraging emotions from that time has been less than fruitful; but what I do remember is that this creeping, paralyzing uncertainty was a hallmark of my thought process before I left; and it was nowhere in evidence during my absence. The world felt more expansive, brighter, and full of possibility, even when I was hosing shit of questionable origin from my shoe in a public bathroom, or watching a stream of toddler urine slowly wend its way toward me along a subway car's floor.

I am not so naive as to believe this is a pure effect of longitude; nevertheless, I think it makes sense to pick up the search where I left off.

Recognizing that the difficulties in China will be formidable -- trying to unravel the mysteries of simply moving money from one place to another today was a trial in and of itself -- I'm sure I still want to give it a shot. I'm just having to remind myself why a little more lately.

As I've tried to explain my move to a few of my friends in China, I've often fallen back on the phrase: 一个生活没困难，没意思 . That is, "A life without difficulty has no meaning."

And aside from some personal difficulties, some real and some imposed from within, I've had it pretty easy. Prestigious private prep school, solid college, never fearing for food on the table or a roof over my head, and falling into money (in varying amounts) from one job to the next, without really ever feeling like I had to exert myself overmuch.

This applies even after I went into business for myself, a decision I more or less based on being able to buy a big TV/monitor and deduct it from my taxes. I made almost twice as much money as I ever had before, and I spent half that year essentially unemployed. Sure, I worked hard on the projects I got -- I do have a decent work ethic, after all -- but I didn't have to go through any of the trials and tribulations normally associated with running your own company.

It kind of felt like cheating, really. As if I'd entered an "Infinite-subsistence-pay-at-the-expense-of-your-soul" code on some cosmic gamepad. It never really seemed like I earned that money. Possibly one of the reasons I spent most of it on gadgets and toys for which I had no need, and food/drink/gifts for friends (only the former of which I regret).

A friend once suggested I was so unhappy because I haven't really had to try for anything, and maybe he was right. Ever since I graduated high school, in all honesty I've really kind of been coasting.

Maybe I just feel like I need more of a challenge. Maybe I'm bored and want to see what's over there. Maybe I'm running away from something here. Maybe I'm stupid, crazy, or both. Maybe I fear being tied down to unpleasantness more than the possibility of never putting down roots. Maybe I'm just chasing a girl. That last one I'm fairly sure isn't it... but who knows, right?

As I said before I left the first time, I think the desire for more difficulty in one's life must be specific to spoiled kids with too much time on their hands (i.e., me). But, meh. So be it. If I'm going to be a stereotype, I may as well try to see how far I can stretch it.

Whatever my concerns now, I'm committed to going. Regardless of what doubts I may have, or the failing memory of those first doubts, what I do remember clearly is the sense of certainty when I decided to go back.

I am choosing between safety -- the security of a job here, and the likely possibility of at least enough work to keep me going for the next few years -- and an unfathomable unknown.

Given I have awakened to the fact that I am essentially free of all responsibility but to make the most of my time, I hope I will opt for the chance of discovery every time.

Next post, hopefully another journal transcript, and not a techie/emo rant.