One Story • One Step • One Question. Three minutes.
One Story
Somewhere in a city I no longer live in, on a floor I no longer walk across, there’s a cactus. It’s tall, and thin, and it stands alone in a square of afternoon light with nothing around it — no other plants, no furniture, nothing to make it look less exposed.
I left it behind when I moved to the UK years ago, and I still don’t fully know why this photo gets me the way it does. This is the last photo I took, moments before walking out the door, heading to JFK to wing my way to the UK for years. Sometimes I stare at this photo and wonder what possessed me to capture this on my way out.
Sometimes it seems more like a self-portrait. The feeling of aloneness, hoping someone will come by and water me. Prickly on the outside. Growing as straight and tall as it can manage, with nobody watching. Easy to walk past in a crowded shop, easy to overlook, and still somehow standing at the end of the day.
Is it just a plant I hoped my landlord would take in and water? Or is it a reminder of what I left behind? Or a photo of my future? In the end, it’s just a cactus I had for two decades — and I left it alone in that room. I sometimes wonder what that says about me.
Years later, I can say with outright authority: that’s most of what living abroad actually asks of you. Not the big, brave leap everyone congratulates you for on the day you leave. The quieter thing after — showing up straight and tall in a place where nobody yet knows your name, thirsty for something familiar, and staying upright anyway.
A cactus can stand alone in an empty room. It can also stand shoulder to shoulder with a hundred others in a greenhouse and never once stop being exactly what it is.
I still don’t know which photograph it was. But I know what it taught me about the years since — and it’s not the lesson about the leap. It’s the one about what comes after.
One Step
I didn't find my footing here through one big decision. I found it the way that cactus might have — one small return at a time. If you're starting over somewhere new, pick one recurring thing and stick with it; don't switch to a different one each week. A Tuesday running club, a language exchange, a Saturday market stall. A coworking space in Bangkok, an allotment in Bristol, a Toronto ESL meetup — the where doesn't matter. What builds a greenhouse is showing up to the same room twice.
One Question
If someone caught you on camera on your way out the door tomorrow, what would the photo show you still hoping somebody would water?
— Randy
I’ve spent fifty years in international education and cultural exchange — a front-row seat to people changing careers, countries, and lives. If you’re putting together a panel, a podcast, or a story and want a voice from the field, just reply. Replies come straight to me, and I read every one.