A Little Bit Lonesome...

Okay, so I don't know if I'm hormonal (probably) or getting stressed about the upcoming trip, but tonight I got depressed for the first time in a LONG time.  Nathan had come over to practice dancing with us -- Nicole, Misha, Tracy, and I -- and things started out really well.  We were all laughing, making mistakes, practicing what we had learned the other night at the Cha-Cha class.  But, at one point, everyone started dancing with each other -- Misha with Nathan and Nicole with Tracy -- and I realized that I was the oddball in the situation.  Everyone was laughing and recalling inside jokes and silly habits they had, and a wave of "I'm an outsider" washed over me as I saw their familiarity with each other.  I can't dance as well as they can and haven't been dancing with them for long.  

Anyway, my good mood went crashing down, and I retreated to Kimmie's room to pack for the trip.  Kimmie never questioned why I had left the practice session, but I still had to fight back tears as I tried to throw myself into the packing and keep from throwing my pity party (which I'm an EXPERT at); but all the laughter and fun they were having on the other side of the door crushed me even more.  They never even came looking for me.  After Nathan and Misha left, Tracy and Nicole came into the room.  Nicole said they had called for me, but Tracy said she'd never heard them looking for me.  Whatever.  They were having fun, and that's fine.  I shouldn't have worn my feelings on my sleeve or been so sensitive.  They didn't MEAN to hurt my feelings. 

But, as I considered the crossroads that I am at in life -- how fluid everything is right now and how I don't know where I'll be once I return from Africa -- I realized that I should get USED to feeling like the outsider.  If I return to yachts, I won't be like the other pirates and wenches who prowl the bars and pubs on their time off.  If I stay here, I'll always be a year behind them in how much they know about each other and dancing and everything else.  I've always longed for that sort of close connection with a group of friends -- like what I've had here these past few weeks.  I don't want to lose that, but I also don't want to be considered "the new girl"... or the outsider.  Not that they have EVER made me feel this way.  As usual, it's based on nothing more than my own jealousy and pessimism.  And, if I go back home, I won't be able to see things the same as I did before I left.  

I definitely haven't gotten over my gypsy ways; in fact, I'm perhaps worse now than I was this time last year.  I have gotten a taste of the adventure (about to get a BIGGER taste!) and it's whet my appetite for more!  I'm content with living out of a bag, making do with what I have, and not indulging in manic shopping sprees.  I'm free of responsibilities like rent/mortgage, a significant "other," and children, and I'm still to selfish to WANT those things right now.  I'm finally figuring out who in the world I am, and it's scary and exciting and beautiful.  But finding myself has been a rather uncomfortable experience in many ways -- my life has been reduced to a guitar and a duffle bag, I sleep on a couch, my heart has been broken and mended and broken again, I don't have my "own space" even though Kimmie tries her best to give me a little of it here and there.  Even going "home" isn't home anymore. 

 I don't mean to sound so negative.  Everyone I've talked to says I'm at a great place in my life.  Kimmie calls it beautiful.  I'm living life like Christ lived -- without earthly ties, solely focused on going where the Lord leads.  Rich Mullins wrote a song called "You Did Not Have a Home" about how the world couldn't "own" Jesus because He didn't have a home here.  And, in many ways, I can see how I'm being led into a closer relationship with God BY my restless heart.  The things in my storage room and duffle bag are just THINGS -- replaceable and worthless in the grand scheme of things.  Why do I even bother keeping all that crap anyway?  In fact, I was joking with Kimmie how my possessions would be reduced to a backpack and guitar by this time next year if I kept at the rate I was going.  And honestly?  That's cool with me.  I don't WANT to feel attached to my things.  But, I still am.  I'm still bound by social expectations to look a certain way.  I still fill my silence with entertainments of various sorts.  And I still crave the security of being prepared for every possible scenario.  But, my desire and dream is to reduce EVERYTHING into a day pack -- live off the provision of God in the situations I find myself.  Have my journal and camera to record my adventures, basic hygiene supplies, a couple changes of clothes, and Jolene.  That's all.  I would love to be able to traipse around Europe alone and not be lonesome or afraid.  I would LOVE to be able to REST peacefully while not knowing where the next day might take me.  

And who knows?  Maybe one day I'll be there.  But there's always the knowledge of what I'm missing out on.  So the question remains, what's the adventure and freedom and independence worth?