The Joy of Living in Someone Else’s Time Zone

Time can change a person only if that person wants to change.

My travels have taken me to many places in life, but on this journey, the destination feels a little more permanent. I’ve signed a one-year lease on my flat, submitted documents to the local authorities for a Portuguese D7 residency visa, and opened a local bank account in my name. But the one thing that still has its evil clutch on me is the time zone change—and the unpredictable jet lag I face daily.

It’s slowly adjusting itself as I take a good night’s rest more seriously than ever before. Now that I’ve finally adapted to a new time zone, completely opposite from the one I came from, I can speak in complete sentences—and have them be mostly understandable, I think. After all, I’m in a small city where not many people speak English, which makes living abroad in Portugal both humbling and rewarding.

My new time zone continues to offer delightful little surprises every day. Now waking up at a normal hour, I make one cup of coffee at a time with my small French press (I’m in Portugal, by the way, not France). This has become a real joy for a coffee freak like me. In my old time zone, I would often make two pots of coffee and consume them both by noon using a 16-ounce insulated jug—a habit I’m slowly leaving behind thanks to expat life in Portugal.

The midday break here in Coimbra—and across Portugal (12:30–2:00)—can be either aggravating or a wonderful reminder that you’re not “there” anymore. You’re here, in a different culture with new expectations and rhythms. You can’t ignore it; it’s a part of life. You have to accept it for what it is: a generously sized lunch break. More countries should give it a shot, really.

Then there’s the sound of absolutely nothing from my balcony. It’s so refreshing—silence truly is golden. I never had that luxury back in the States. There was always the sound of traffic that I could never escape: the constant noise of loud trucks, motorcycles, and ambulances that just became part of everyday life—that’s until they disappeared. Adjusting to life in Portugal has reminded me what real peace and quiet sound like.

Now, with all this peace and quiet around me, I find myself searching for important things to do and trying to decide what truly matters each day. Maybe that’s why I’m pouring everything I have into writing this post—making it today’s meaningful task and giving me a satisfying sense of purpose.

One thing I can say for sure, now that I understand what my new “normal” has really become, I’m enjoying life again. It’s simple in many ways, quiet enough that I can actually think, and full of the things I choose to fill it with each day. Expat living has a way of slowing you down—in the best possible way.

I’ve thought about writing this post for some time, and I just want to say that the dream of coming here—to be free from stressful work and endless to-do lists—feels incredibly rewarding. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years, but like many others, I only dreamed about it. But then I finally took action, and now that I’m actually here, it does feel like I’m living in a dream—or acting out scene’s in a foreign film. Or maybe it’s the jet lag recovery talking. No, wait—I don’t think so. It’s quite real, because I just pinched myself.

When I started thinking seriously about it, something amazing began to happen. With each step I took, the next one appeared, as if showing me that I should keep going. The more steps I took, the more possible it all became, and before I knew it, I had a solid plan in place. Finally, I had two choices: brush it off as a stupid dream or pull the trigger and go for it. I chose the latter—on two occasions now—and needless to say, I haven’t regretted either one.

I think more people should take their dreams seriously. It doesn’t have to be permanent or forever; just try on a new pair of your best dream shoes and take them out for a walk. Don’t worry so much about when you’re coming back—just make sure you feel like you’ve gone where you wanted to go. You’ll know when it’s time to return. The smile on your face will be proof that you went there.

I hope you have a closet with a few pairs of dream shoes that need to go out for a walk. Don’t be afraid to put them on. If they get you there, they can always get you back. Sounds a little like Dorothy and the Yellow Brick Road, doesn’t it?

Remember, there’s only one small thing standing between you and your ability to live out your dreams—it’s you.

So what do you say, let's dust off a pair of dream shoes and go for walk, a Drift awaits us all.