I had a lot going on this week, but I felt compelled to join in on the fun, and so I rushed home from babysitting, packed my bag, and we headed down to the site.
We passed the exits for Furman and Clemson on the way.
Two out of my three top school choices I was considering last spring while transferring. I often get lost in daydreams of what would have happened if I'd chosen one of those schools. Visions of myself running around in orange and purple haunt my thoughts... of course, if I'd ONLY chosen Clemson or Furman so much of the pain and trauma I experienced in my short stay at Agnes Scott could have been avoided, RIGHT? Maybe... but... does thinking about that heal any of what DID happen?
Well... nah.
Yes, I know I have constantly blogged about how *happy* and *content* and *grateful* I am for the way my life is now, but the truth is, I need to constantly remind myself WHY...
I found this great swing this week. It's hung from the tail of a one-of-a-kind plane. There was a lot of downtime this week on the job site and I found myself sitting here on this swing, contemplating life (in short sessions of course because it actually kind of hurt my butt).
A very calm spot to consider the state of things. From here I could view the comings and goings of various groups of airmen in those "bunkers" across the old, unused landing strip. While watching these men go about their daily routine I longingly thought about times in my life when I've had a starched, solid daily life. School. Work. Camp. There HAVE been times where I've had a reliable, comforting sense of community and stability. I've often felt little sprouts of peace at a place, a little internal sigh of "I could make myself at home here".
But it seems I'm always been torn away from them in some way or another. Often, things end bitterly. I've left all my colleges with a sense of sadness and disappointment at the way things went down there, and now the same can sadly be said for camp.
I watched the airmen walking to and fro, so easily marked in their camo, so "a part" of this place, and I truly craved a community that would wrap me in something solid and recognizable like those uniforms do for these men. I sometimes wish I had gone to great school, found an irresistible spark of school spirit in myself, and thrown myself into my four years there, becoming intertwined with the place forever. Or perhaps I could have chosen a different summer camp and returned year after year, feeling more and more embedded in the community, more and more an extension of that ministry.
No.
This has not been the case for me.
But as I sat here, I felt a sense of peace in that perhaps I have not yet been granted a community that is long-lasting, fulfilling, and consuming because I'm not ready for it.
Maybe, by constantly giving me a "new plan" and a change of scenery, God is teaching me important things about my personality, my needs, and the delicate balance of "self" and "others". Maybe it would be "too easy" for me to throw myself into an identity based on one place, one group, one purpose. Maybe I'm still too wounded to give myself away again to something external.
Whatever the reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of strength this week as I realized that I have become somewhat of an expert at surviving without a community - or anyone, really. Since my one and only long-term "relationship" (a better definition would be "hostage situation" but ya know) ended, I've been truly alone in my decisions, my thoughts, my plans, my perspective.
I've really learned who IIIIIIIIIIII am. Who ***I*** am! Not who people think I am, not who people want me to be, and not who people try to MAKE me be. I am learning - still learning - what makes me tick. What I like. What I feel. What I think.
And I require no community, no school spirit, no church function calendar, and no "umbrella" of any kind to define myself under. There's no place, person, or group that I feel would destroy me if I lost it. And that feels good.
I'm not trying to say "I'm bullet-proof" because I'm NOT - not at all! But, I feel recent events in my life, including this on-going theme of loss, are proving to be important factors in the continual process of "making Sarah Kane as Sarah Kane-y as she can be". Maybe we just gotta strip away a few more of the externals to figure out what's REALLY going on inside this girl.
And so, I try to push aside these longing thoughts of Clemson and a perfect crowd of orange friends around me, because I, Sarah Kane, no longer need a fantastic school or camp or church to feel a sense of belonging and purpose. I belong right here in this body, wherever this body may be. With whoever I'm with. Doing whatever I'm doing. I'm one of those crazy soil-less plants. Drop me anywhere, and I'll grow. This week, I grew under a one-of-a-kind plane. Next week, I'll grow under the fluorescent lights of the YMCA. Who knows where I'll grow the week after that.
Stay tuned.
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