In response to Aristaeus:
When I lived in Kentucky, it was the first time in my life I truly felt like I was home. And what an odd place – Kentucky. It was a beautiful time in my life – full of laughter, tears, good friends, active dogs and a little home that had my touch and a bright red door. And then, well, now here I am. And its not home. I’m glad that its not home. I am thankful for the chance to be here, but am anxious for next December. I have lived my entire life waiting for the “what’s next” that comes with being a student. In high school I counted down the days till I could move out on my own. I wanted to make new friends that weren’t connected to my family, to study what I wanted, instead of what was laid out for me by the Florida Board of Education. I was ready to get to college. Then, it seemed as though May 2003 would never make it. I longed to don that black cap and gown, to blow the tassels out of my eyes as I walked solemnly down the isle of what was supposed to be the Green but turned out to be the gym. I felt grown up and important as I moved myself to Kentucky to start Graduate school. But even there, in the joy of learning, it wasn’t long before I began longing for more than papers and books, and desired real-life experiences. I wanted to be on the other side of the book – I wanted people to read my stories – and knew that wouldn’t happen while I was still in school. Again, waiting for the May flowers, 2007 both crept up and happened upon me so suddenly. I was ecstatic to receive a job – a perfect fit it seemed. Combining a love for people, travel, the Church, and social justice. Yet how was I to know that I would be faced with yet another deadline, another point of ending? First December 2008 – the end of my international term. But even that isn’t the end. My life will pick up again and move me who knows where to live and settle and work and be, again….for 15 months. I am wanderer. Like Aristeaus – there is a wander lust in my heart that I cannot deny. There is a certain high that I get from new experiences, meeting new people, starting over. Yet. Yet, I am ready to settle for a little bit. Its hard to settle in somewhere when you know that you are leaving soon. Even if its not soon, even its four years, its still a cap. I can’t imagine what it would be like to move somewhere not knowing how long I’ll be there. Or even the possibility of never leaving that place. What does that feel like? Even growing up in the same town, we were never settled. We were always moving into another house. My cousin says my parents have House-ADD. I think that they have wander lust – but can’t make it past the town limits. That, or a really fickle hobby. By the time I was 17 and packing up to go off to college, I was a pro at packing, having done it 6 times already. Well, let’s be honest, some of those times I was too young to do much but pull the toys back out of the boxes! (*side note, my parents have moved three times since I left for college*)
So I have to admit that the thought of being in one place, in one home, one town, with one group of friends, for an indefinite amount of time scares me. But it also intrigues me. Its the one thing I haven’t done yet. You name the roommate stereotypes and housing situations, I’ve had ’em. Dorm rooms – check. Duplex with ultra creepy neighbors – check. “Newly renovated” apartment that shared a vent with the neighbors and whose floors vibrated with the er, music, from the church downstairs – check. Old house turned into apartments where I couldn’t afford heat – check. Cute little house with a red door and big back yard – check. Three hundred square foot flat in Hong Kong – check. I can live on my own, move halfway around the world, I can even live with boys without killing them! (not an easy task all the time!) But the thought, the very idea of living in one place without an end date, it absolutely baffles me. At the same time, I find myself beginning to CRAVE that. Long for it. Imagine what it would be like. And I wonder, will I ever find out?