Living in a Lonely World

I’ve talked about it here or there. I grew up going to a private school housed in the church that we attended every Sunday. I spent 6 days of the week in the same building and sometimes seven days during sports season. I didn’t think much of it. Everybody knew me and I knew everybody. When my mom was late to pick us up, it wasn’t really that troublesome. We could find a ride home or hang out in the building with whichever teacher was staying late.

It was a small world.

I’m not sure that is or was a bad thing really. There is something to be said for security and safety. As an adult, my husband and I have moved 8 times in 12 years. I would love to just STAY somewhere. One house, one yard. Instead, I spend 4 months procrastinating on hanging our pictures. Then, I hang them and we move 6-8 months later (12 months if I am lucky). Sometimes I wonder how much of a point there is in making a home when we move so often. Even my kids are reluctant to move again. I think if I told them we were staying in our less-than-ideal rental for the next five years – they would cheer!

But how much safety and security is too much or too long? I wonder.

The problem with my small world upbringing was that I didn’t know who I was outside of my small circle. When I left home, I floundered and, truthfully, I still flounder. I’m an expert flounder-er. But isn’t that somewhat natural? I mean, the term “coming-of-age story” exists for a reason, right?

Did growing up in a bubble really affect me as much as it feels like it affected me? I mean, we are all pretty subjective in the stories we tell ourselves. An outsider would hardly describe my life the way I would. I think that’s probably why biography and auto-biography are two very different things.

What if I told myself a different story? What would somebody write on my Wikipedia page?

“Small-town girl livin’ in a lonely world”?

Literally, those are the exact words that came to my mind. Oh lord, the soundtrack to my life features “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey. How poetic.

Actually, I think I’m okay with that story, that soundtrack. Really, we are all lonely at times or even most of the time. We are all searching – searchers. And maybe that is the best part of all…

We are not the only ones searching.

So don’t stop believing. (Yeah, I went there.)

 

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