I think I have a favorite word. It's "then."
So far, everyone I've told has responded with facial expressions ranging from politely feigned interest to sheer bewilderment. But it makes sense to me, even though I can't explain it incredibly well. And I know this because I first thought it about two years ago, and I still agree with myself.
(p.s., studying grammar can really be a curse - after my months tutoring English, I can hardly write a thing without pondering essential and nonessential clauses, direct and indirect objects, and other such nonsense. It is highly distracting.)
Anyway.
The word then is most often used as an adverb, and it commonly means "at that time," "immediately or soon afterward," next in time or place," or "therefore."
The word then implies that there is something more that you can't see. It carries a sense of expectation, because when you see it you know there is more coming, although you don't yet know what that might be. Furthermore, the expectation of then is always satisfied: there always is more and you are never left wanting.
I think that applies to my life . . . at least, I hope so. And I like that.
If the first train left from Ohio going 80 miles an hour . . .
None of this is sinking in, you know.
I can talk about it all day long (which at this point actually makes it seem less real, not more), but it doesn't really penetrate the mind my words apparently spring from.
It's surreal. How can I possibly understand that I am about to lose (leave, which is almost the same) every SINGLE person I love, all at the same time? The other changes are interesting to me (figuring out what I'm going to need, how I'm going to avoid offending other cultures, how I'm going to cope with weird food, etc.), but those things become minimal when contrasted with this.
And so I go through my days one at a time, methodically working through my lists in my usual hap-hazard way. Somehow my lists are getting checked off . . . Yesterday I joined the church and responded to friends who want to help support me. Today I called a pastor at OM, got two immunization shots and another prescription, finished my Christmas shopping, and went by Bryan to say a few important goodbyes (which were very hard, by the way). Tomorrow I will clean the apartment, start packing, call my OM adviser, and bake cookies for the cookie exchange at the women's Bible study at Westminster. Thursday I will move back home, and Friday I will have my wisdom teeth out so they won't cause a crisis while I'm gone.
And all the while, in the back of my mind, I am incredibly sad. I don't wallow in it, but neither can I escape it. And honestly - I don't want to escape right now. I feel so distant from it all sometimes that it makes me worry about the long-term repurcussions. I'm afraid I won't understand what is happening to me until I'm sitting on the plane. (At which point I'll probably go into a glorious fit of sobbing and wailing and they'll have to sedate me to keep me from scaring the children.) I would rather do my grieving now, privately, and thoroughly.
But most of the time . . . I just can't. I do what needs to be done . . . but I don't understand.
I can talk about it all day long (which at this point actually makes it seem less real, not more), but it doesn't really penetrate the mind my words apparently spring from.
It's surreal. How can I possibly understand that I am about to lose (leave, which is almost the same) every SINGLE person I love, all at the same time? The other changes are interesting to me (figuring out what I'm going to need, how I'm going to avoid offending other cultures, how I'm going to cope with weird food, etc.), but those things become minimal when contrasted with this.
And so I go through my days one at a time, methodically working through my lists in my usual hap-hazard way. Somehow my lists are getting checked off . . . Yesterday I joined the church and responded to friends who want to help support me. Today I called a pastor at OM, got two immunization shots and another prescription, finished my Christmas shopping, and went by Bryan to say a few important goodbyes (which were very hard, by the way). Tomorrow I will clean the apartment, start packing, call my OM adviser, and bake cookies for the cookie exchange at the women's Bible study at Westminster. Thursday I will move back home, and Friday I will have my wisdom teeth out so they won't cause a crisis while I'm gone.
And all the while, in the back of my mind, I am incredibly sad. I don't wallow in it, but neither can I escape it. And honestly - I don't want to escape right now. I feel so distant from it all sometimes that it makes me worry about the long-term repurcussions. I'm afraid I won't understand what is happening to me until I'm sitting on the plane. (At which point I'll probably go into a glorious fit of sobbing and wailing and they'll have to sedate me to keep me from scaring the children.) I would rather do my grieving now, privately, and thoroughly.
But most of the time . . . I just can't. I do what needs to be done . . . but I don't understand.
(I'm not used to this title thing yet!)
I began my first blog on a whim. I had heard a friend mention her blog and I, vaguely familiar with the common use of blogs, decided that it might be fun to write journal entries into cyberspace – where nobody knew me and where I could, therefore, be very honest – without being treated differently as a consequence of my honesty.
That lasted – well, until I found one of my friend's blogs. Then it slowly morphed into a social sphere for me, where I could keep up with my friend's lives, share my own, and receive their feedback on my anecdotes and confessions. It was both an outlet for me and a social interaction. I walked a strange line between protecting it from people who I felt might compromise the freedom I felt there and advertising it out of a strong desire to be known by the people I trusted. I used it frequently for about four years – until my real-life personal interactions so greatly outweighed my web interactions that a blog became pointless.
Now things are different. Many things are different - some things have not changed. I still enjoy expressing myself and trying to figure things out using words. I still waffle between wanting to be known and wanting to protect myself and guard my words. I still love the truth – in spite of my weakness in that area and my frequent willingness to compromise it for my own purposes.
But my life – my direction – my purpose in writing – is different now. I am embarking on a huge new adventure, and one that I want to both document and share. (At some point I may explain on here how I got on this path . . . but really, this is just an introduction, okay? That'll have to wait.) I don't know yet how I will maneuver those opposing forces of disclosure and restraint. (I've thought about this.) What I do know . . . is that things are about to change for me. Everything that I know will change – the people I know, the culture I know, the home I know, the food I know, the ideas I know, the habits I know . . . honestly, anything could happen.
Crazy huh??
That lasted – well, until I found one of my friend's blogs. Then it slowly morphed into a social sphere for me, where I could keep up with my friend's lives, share my own, and receive their feedback on my anecdotes and confessions. It was both an outlet for me and a social interaction. I walked a strange line between protecting it from people who I felt might compromise the freedom I felt there and advertising it out of a strong desire to be known by the people I trusted. I used it frequently for about four years – until my real-life personal interactions so greatly outweighed my web interactions that a blog became pointless.
Now things are different. Many things are different - some things have not changed. I still enjoy expressing myself and trying to figure things out using words. I still waffle between wanting to be known and wanting to protect myself and guard my words. I still love the truth – in spite of my weakness in that area and my frequent willingness to compromise it for my own purposes.
But my life – my direction – my purpose in writing – is different now. I am embarking on a huge new adventure, and one that I want to both document and share. (At some point I may explain on here how I got on this path . . . but really, this is just an introduction, okay? That'll have to wait.) I don't know yet how I will maneuver those opposing forces of disclosure and restraint. (I've thought about this.) What I do know . . . is that things are about to change for me. Everything that I know will change – the people I know, the culture I know, the home I know, the food I know, the ideas I know, the habits I know . . . honestly, anything could happen.
Crazy huh??