For future reference

Disclaimer: I'm trying to keep a log of this experience, to remember it in detail, so that throughout other transitory times, I can review and realize that I'm normal. Perhaps this is an obsessive attempt at control that indicates that all is not as well as I think it is. We'll see. Forgive the intrinsically selfish nature of these next few posts. Hopefully I'll be able to post something more universally meaningful at some point soon.

So here, apparently, is where it hits. I almost cried today in a training video for work. The training video, shockingly enough, did not warrant any kind of emotion on my part. But there it was.

I suppose now is where my emotional reserves have been used up. Yet I'm not sure. It's not as though this has been terribly uncomfortable for me. I like my roommates, I like my landpeople, I like my classes, and my professors, and my classmates seem nice. My new job seems as though it will be enjoyable. In fact, on paper, this transition could not be going more smoothly.

So why am I spending a lot more time than I ought on Facebook, connecting, however briefly, to my past? Why are unhealthy coping mechanisms surfacing in my life? Tonight, as I talked to a dear friend, I kept saying, "Yeah, it's fine, and I'm fine," with a broken record quality. Even as my brain was agreeing with those words, my toneless repetition of the phrase rang hollow. Even the placement of the phrase was suspect. I told her, "Yeah, it looks like I can't go home for Christmas. I'm fine." I told her, "I'm so behind on homework, I already feel like I can't catch up. I'm fine." I told her, "Yeah, I haven't really made friends in my classes. But it's fine."

So my question is, how is life so simultaneously fine. . .and yet not? I have no room to be ungrateful. God has provided in every way that I've asked, and I really, truly have enjoyed this transition. I'm not kidding. I like being challenged; I have been incredibly blessed during what could have been a very difficult time, and on top of that, I like what I'm learning and I've been growing like that proverbial weed.

So, how, I ask you, am I so far from fine?

Settling.

I wish I had been able to keep a mental journal of all the thoughts that have been running through my mind over the past several days.

“I love transitions.”

“Wow, God, that was unnecessarily kind of you.”

“Please let me merge, please let me merge, please let me merge. . .”

I kind of feeling as though I’m having a chance to redeem my transition to Taylor. No, scratch that. My transition to Taylor was what it was, and though it was undeniably messy, I’ve been indelibly marked and changed by it.

So this is a new transition. A new opportunity to make mistakes, a new opportunity to learn and grow and be changed, to meet and enjoy new people, and learn how to love old friends well from a distance.

I’ve realized that ever since graduating and leaving behind BFA, I’ve lived with a constantly-running mental hourglass. When I went to Taylor, I never (not once in four years) voluntarily rearranged a room or decorated. I loved the people at Taylor, but I refused to become attached to the place. Last year was particularly "bad" in that sense. I participated in a ton of Taylor events, but when it came time to spend actual time with friends, I shied away, knowing full well that graduation and goodbyes were looming.

That, I find now, was a mistake. It’s not one I particularly regret, but it is one I won’t repeat again. I’ve already talked to my landlady here about extending my lease, and I could potentially be in this house until I am ready to head back overseas.

I’m settling. The other day I rearranged my room. I’ve sketched out decorating ideas. I’m checking out what I can plant in the garden.

I’m determined that this will be a home. And even if I end up moving in May, I will pack up my fresh herbs, and the cute little curtains I plan to sew as soon as I set up the cute little sewing area I’ve planned for one corner of my room (have I mentioned that I am an excellent dreamer?), and I will take my home elsewhere. For transition, as I have learned, is meant to be transient. I’ve forced myself to live in a state of perpetual pseudo-transition for years now; it’s time to roost.

Recent transitiony thoughts

I wrote a calm, well-thought-out post a few days ago after having moved into my new home. I trust you will see that at some point in the next few days, but for now, I'm trying to capture some of the whirlwind my brain, emotions, and entire being (I'm allowed a little drama, right?) have gone through in the past few days.

Monday was orientation, which was a good theory and effort on the part of the school, but which mainly served to completely disorient me.

I've had my first three classes, experienced the same conversations about 68 times with others in the seminary and graduate school, and already pulled a late night to finish my Counseling Techniques homework the night before it was due. I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.

I am happy to report that this is the best transition I have ever experienced. I've yet to have a breakdown, though I'm expecting one about halfway through my next Psychopathology course. I've managed to do the things I need to do and only called my parents once for emotional support (the other 8,000 times were to give me Internet information I needed. . .we're still waiting to get the Internet set up at home).

Sure, it's been a transition. My brain is so full it feels swollen, and I'm still much more conscious than I want to be about the way I present myself to others; I get lost on this tiny little campus more than I want to admit, and I still pray every time I have to merge onto the freeway outside my house. I feel all the dazed uncertainty I hope is normal for this kind of experience.

But I'm much better equipped to handle it than in other transitions. I'm appreciating the opportunity to break up my comfort zone and re-establish it along broader lines. And while it's not comfortable, there's an underlying excitement and peace in knowing that someday soon the dust will settle and I will hopefully be a person of greater depth and adaptability than I have hitherto known. The decisions I am making right now: to talk to someone or not; to face a problem or avoid it; to ask a question that may sound dumb in class, etc. are developing me for my next transitions. So, because hands on practice like this doesn't come along every day, I'm trying to immerse myself as fearlessly and completely in this moment as possible. Fellow transitioners, my hope is that you will find the Source of strength to be able to do the same.