I am still not completely unpacked from my move to Arizona. I only had a car full to begin with.
It's not all about the stuff, though. It's more about my mindset, and the things I've felt being here in this new place.
After six years of progressively moving into leadership roles and making many amazing friends in Kingsville, Texas and elsewhere in that wonderful state, I saw myself as a man ready to take on the world. I figured it wouldn't be hard to just go wherever the Spirit led me, because of a couple of summers I had spent away from home.
My first move, to Dallas, showed me that I could still be insecure, and still feel out of place and alone. It was like God's warning shot. But there, I had a best friend and a group of guys to hang out with, although my "social circle" shrunk down to a more reasonable size.
This second move, though, has been something I didn't expect. I didn't know I could feel as alone as I felt those first couple of days here, or as insecure as I have been these past two weeks. It's nothing to realistically be surprised about... I, however, apparently was not in touch with reality. I could almost feel everyone sizing me up, and feel myself being driven by this desire to make everyone like me. I wondered if I had said too much, or not enough, or if I had made sense... just so many questions in my head. Did I even belong here? Had I made the wrong move?
So this is what it's like to be the new person, in a strange place. I think we all need to be reminded of how this feels from time to time. We get so comfortable that we can't empathize with those around us. I have a new understanding for those who are new to the fellowship at Third Format, or whatever group I'm a part of. Every struggle has a purpose.
So I'm here, finally realizing that I'm here for a reason, and finally getting past those initial insecurities. I realize that I am human, and that I am not invincible. I've been tempted to live with my life still packed away, subconsciously preparing my escape if things get too hairy and keeping myself linked to where I once was.
I realize, now, that it is time to unpack. I could sure use the trunk space.
The paradox of insular language
1 year ago
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