| | I'm leaving for Europe in two and a half weeks. I think I'm out of my mind. Myself and my dear friend Heidi bought our tickets on Monday, we will be gone for a month, we have nothing more than a basic itinerary, we have a below-the-poverty-line budget, and we speak no European languages (Latin is not as useful as one might think when trying to communicate with locals in Spain, France, and Italy...Thai, even less so). But, one has to grab at these opportunities when one has the chance (or, in an attempt to derive some usefulness from the Latin language, "carpe diem"). So, I am going to Europe for a month. How do I feel about this? I am enraptured, of course. There is something about Europe that connects to a part of me that entirely neglected here in the USofA. The architecture inlaid with history, the streets ablaze with diversity, the corridors steeped in thought, the sidewalks cafes full of life. There is a wealth of wisdom to be gained by walking amongst people and places so tightly bound to their past, so content to live in the moment, and so eagerly straining toward the future. In America we seem to be missing two out of these three. Oh, we are very good at straining toward the future. I don't think anyone would argue with that. But we seem to think that we can't move forward if we choose to embrace our past and if we delight in our present. I would argue that we are wrong. Regardless, I look forward to breathing the air of Europe. I find that, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I so easily become caught up in my little world. The minute dramas, frustrations, pleasures, and challenges grow enormous under constant attention until they consume all of me. Every so often I must force my head above water, take a look around, and put my little world with all its complexities back in perspective. This is not to belittle my life, it is simply refreshing to be reminded that there is so much more. There are bigger issues, more ways to look at things, and many more things to learn. I also look forward to spending time with Heidi, who is a constant source of wisdom and encouragement to me. I am also a little apprehensive. I have done my share of traveling, but I have always gone to a specific place, usually with a specific plan or objective in mind. This time things are much more tentative. It will all come together, I am sure, but facing so many questions and possibilities is a bit daunting. Then, of course, there is the issue of budget, which will require us to be far more creative than many European travelers. But I always like a challenge. However, what concerns me the most is how sad I will be to leave my home for a month. I have always been very restless. I rarely get attached to places and, I must admit, people. Independent to a fault, I have often taken the beauty and wonder of friendship, of community, of home for granted. However, over the past year or two, through a series of humbling and often painful lessons, I am at last beginning to learn the value of community and the beauty of dependency. And instead of feeling terrified of being trapped or tied down to one place, I feel extraordinarily happy and blessed to be precicely where I am surrounded by incredible family and friends who love me. And, after about six months of wondering whether anywhere on this earth would ever feel like home again, I can finally rejoice that, for now, I have a home. Yes, as sentimental as it sounds, I will only be gone for a month and I will have a marvelous time, but I am fairly certain that I will be genuinely homesick for the first time. |
