Moving to Stop

"The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for.  And the most you can do is live inside that hope.  Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof... running down its hallways and touching the walls on both sides."-Barbara Kingsolver

It’s been over a month since returning home from Nicaragua and I haven’t written a word.  It’s a mess, really, because I’ve wanted to write but have lacked the drive, stamina… whatever it was I had when I was living in Lagartillo.  I had very little distractions, which led me so much closer to pen, paper, words.  Stories.  I miss writing terribly but apparently the pathetic distractions in our “modern society” take over my concentration more than I thought.  This month I hope to pay more attention to my writing and how it makes me feel more connected to myself and to God.

Seems like I’ve been quite the transient in the past month or so.  I used to admire people who went from place to place, thinking that had to be the best life.  I was even feeling that way doing my last bit of traveling around Nicaragua: I could go anywhere and I never had to ask or tell anyone.  Even my plans post-Nicaragua were still up in the air as I when I came back to Michigan and I felt invigorated by that.  I could decide to do anything and go anywhere… well, almost.  My funds were running rather low and I certainly couldn’t afford a plane ticket back to Nicaragua. 

my beautiful mother, christmas day.

I settled on Michigan for the time being, knowing I was going to do a bit of traveling around the area.  It was really great being with my family for such a long time and it was refreshing to see familiar faces that knew me. Christmas in mid-Michigan followed by a visit to my sister and brother-in-law’s place in Baltimore (also followed by the amazing news that Steph and Ben are expecting!).

lights in baltimore

sister steph, her husband ben, and a soon-to-be aunt!

Then I went on a new year’s visit to Chicago with some of my best friends in the entire world.  

these women are too amazing to put into words

I spent some needed time in Northern Michigan (which if you know me at all, you know that Northern Michigan has a way of giving me peace like nothing else), and a big family vacation packed in there as well.  All of this was good- great actually- but further pushed my uneasy feelings about the future to the side, and those feelings have a tendency to show up in über-dramatic ways later on down the road.

this place has a big piece of my heart, even in the dead of winter.

padre and i in brutus, mi.

So in a semi-planned, Justine-like fashion, two weeks ago I packed up my little car once again and headed back the only direction that made sense at the time- West.  Some friends from Beyond (the summer camp I worked at out in B.C.) had an open spot in their house in Seattle, and it just seemed like a good idea.  I didn’t have any other plans, had just enough money to get out there, and wanted to go where there were people I knew.  To be honest I didn’t think too much about it.  At the time I had not quite processed my months in Nicaragua and what it meant to me, and I was already on the move visiting friends and family… why not continue onward?

Hence, I ignored my exhaustion, packed up my things, and moved.  Again.  (For the 4^th time in 8 months I believe, if anyone’s counting.)

I realize I am making this out to sound like an awful plan, but I promise you it wasn’t!  I am just now coming to terms with how I felt last month and how that affected my decisions.  I felt rushed, like I had to be in any place but where I was.  I was also trying to get out to Oregon/Washington in time for a little guide class reunion near Mt Hood area.  When it came down to it, I really only had a week to get out there, so I just went for it.  I got to see and stay with three of my closest friends along the way, which was fantastic.  You can’t really beat awkward returns to New Holland Brewery’s stein night with Leigh, Chinese food, 30rock, and lots of laughter with Erin, or the St. Paul winter carnival with Lani. 

As the rigid negative temperatures ate up my gas mileage all the way through North Dakota, I was feeling more and more anxious.  I wasn’t going to see any familiar faces until I reached Seattle and I-94 looked scary.  Desolate beyond comprehension, especially when you’re by yourself and it’s -15 degrees outside.  Thank God for Ira Glass and This American Life.  However, when I realized that he’d be my closest companion that day, I had a small, short pity party for myself.

the emptiness that is north dakota. 

Loneliness had truly caught up to me in North Dakota.  I felt as if all of these past months- going from Ashland to B.C, to Michigan, to Nicaragua, back to Michigan, and now to Seattle- were some of the most life-giving and life-taking months of my life.  It was the life a part of me had always wanted, but I felt so alone in my travels and experiences.  The ironicy (not a word, but it should be) of it all was that I was going place to place experiencing truly beautiful communities, yet I was doing it alone.  Sure I have learned a lot, but how well do those lessons stick when there is no sense of permanence?  How invested am I actually being in a community if I take off after a few months?  And how do all of these things affect my decision to move to Seattle? 

Suddenly all of these absurd questions were charging through my brain like a stampede of bulls or cows or any large animal really.  I felt taken out by loneliness, and had never noticed it as much as I did then.  I had so many stories to share, but those whom I shared them with were scattered all over North and Central America.  Once I realized that I felt more isolated than a traveler stuck in North Dakota in mid-January… oh wait, that was me as well.

I am not writing to down-play my experiences in any way.  I am so grateful for the life I’ve been living, it’s just that every story has two sides.  I’ve been benefiting from my times in B.C, Michigan, Ashland and Nicaragua, but I’ve now realized that I have missed that comfort given by permanency by moving all of the time.

I arrived in Seattle with just enough daylight to take my things out of my car and into my partition in the basement. :) Yes, I am living in a very cheap, cozy partition and I love it.  I would go so far as to say that I am nesting there, but last time I said that, a friend of mine couldn’t stop picturing me walking around my bedroom like a chicken, pecking at pillows and shuffling my feet to make my bed.  At any rate, I found myself sharing a community dinner with my future housemates just minutes after I moved in.  It was wonderful.  I didn’t feel quite at home just yet but the love and intention from these women was exactly what I needed.  I felt okay at that moment- like I had most likely made a good decision.

    

Two days later I packed it up and headed out for a weekend hike with some really great friends from Beyond.  As hectic and transient as I have been, it was so nice to get away and be with people that know and love me.  It was also good for my soul to be in the Oregon mountains again.  

hiking a trail near mt. hood

And that’s where I’ll leave it this evening.  I am still very excited about living here for potentially a long time, but I am still hesitant to commit.  It looks like I’ll be job searching for a while which makes life here just as transient as before.  But lately I feel very inspired and driven by that passage from Kingsolver’s Animal Dreams (see above).  We are all here to figure out what we hope for.  I want so badly to find that for myself and to live in that hope.  I truly believe that God gives us these hopes that can in turn bring us to life.  Through this God breathes peace into our bones, into our being.  For some reason I am certain of this.  I am holding my transitions, uncertainties and questions with a lose grip, reminding myself of something an old friend of mine once posed: “Don’t you know that God’s got the whole world in her wrinkled hands?”