Well, training is finished and I’m in that all too familiar stage of the journey that marks the calm time before everything really gets going.
In the past 3 weeks I’ve been in Tulsa, Memphis, and now South Bend, enjoying time with family and friends before I won’t get to see any of them for at least a year, well, 10 months or so. I remember this feeling before I went to France last year, knowing that a big transition is coming but really unable to do anything about it until the time simply passes. If you know me, you’ll know that, while I enjoy relaxing, I can’t stand just sitting around. It makes me nuts. And you’ll also know that I love my family, dearly, but being home is not my forte nor is it super relaxing.
As odd as it is, all that I really need to relax is a change of scenery. That’s probably why I find my solace in coffee shops and where ever else. Not trying to wax philosophic here, but I feel like I have a restless soul (and listening to the Gladiator soundtrack isn’t really helping much… haha). I remember a conversation I had with my mom several years ago, after I had been moved out of my parents house for a couple years. The gist of the conversation was me coming to the realization that I really did not have a home. Sure, I’ve lived in a few different places, Texas, Oklahoma, France, but none were my home. Neither do I feel “at home” when I’m staying with my parents. I doubt I’ll have a true home until I’m married, possibly not until I have kids, if that time ever actually comes (that’s another whole post right there).
At first, this realization was a bit disconcerting, but as I’ve grown into it, I find the notion more and more exciting. I like the idea of suitcase living, country hopping, going to dangerous places… the crazier the better. I enjoy the weird looks that I get when I tell people that everything I own is in the trunk of my car, that I’m only taking one suitcase to Kabul for a year, or any other number of things. Maybe I’m a weirdo, but I enjoy that too. I choose to be homeless, not houseless or poor (far from it), but willfully homeless. Maybe it’s not for everyone, and probably not for me my whole life, but for now it’s my favorite thing.
All this to say, I feel restless with the familiar, with the calm. While it’s good to have time to sit back, think, and enjoy friends and family, I’m eager to be out. I know that at some point I’ll wish I had some of this time back, just to relax and not think about too much but I still can’t shake the feeling of wanting to go, it’s in my blood (and yes, little did I know until about a month ago, but I come from a long line of globe-trotters).
I apologize if you get bored with my musings but hey, I’m leaving soon and the content should get more interesting.
One thought on “The Calm”
Okay Luke….why did I not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to you at length while we were both in Memphis??? BIG regret on my part!
I really enjoyed your posting. As I read it I thought you were crawling into my brain and reading my own feelings about culture and the need for change in order to relax. The French have a saying that when translated means “rinsing my eyes”. I love that. I often feel I need to see or do something new in order to breathe with ease.
These days it seems I rarely get to go to new places. As I type there is a bit of melancholy in that statement. I truly love the stress of the new. So now I take people to my familiar places but places that are new to them. Luke…that is a rush as well. It is like seeing it again for the first time.
I look forward to reading your words and thoughts in the coming weeks and months!