Well, I’ve moved back to the land of entire aisles filled only with different types of shampoo, where driving on the interstate is scary (seriously, I drove for the first time in a year last night and I was afraid), where everyone (or mostly everyone) speaks English but no one rides a bike, and I can get groceries at 7:00 in the morning or at midnight and on a SUNDAY, if I wanted to. And my poor room-mate has had to answer questions like, “how much do you tip at a restaurant?” and “can I turn right on a red light?”, and they’ve been asked in all seriousness. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Crappy, inside-gut-turning, mostly.
Or maybe it’s similar to feeling like silly putty. In the past week – or in the past month, really – I feel like I’ve been stretched, pulled, snapped, bounced, and molded into all sorts of crazy shapes. My supervisors and the secretary at my church left for a month and I was there alone, they came back and all of a sudden internship was over, my sister got engaged, my financial situation changed drastically, I had to say “auf wiedersehen” in the midst of some of the most wonderful relationships I have ever had, I flew back from Germany and am dealing with jet-lag and a “new” culture, my entire life is sitting in boxes in my living room, and I’m trying to figure out what it means to start my previous relationships up again. I’m the same color, I have the same mannerisms and the same name... but I feel like some kid is using my life as a toy. I keep experiencing all of these changes, but I’m not able to understand them, I’m not able to control them; I simply fold like silly putty.
But at the same time, it doesn’t just work that way. Humans think, question, are stubborn, resist change, and generally have the need to understand and comprehend. To make sense of things. Changes will come and surprises will occur, but they’re not always taken as exciting new things to add to the wonder of life. They’re difficult and come with a lot of pain. There’s a required, if not unconscious, process of transformation that happens. Instead of being like silly putty and simply changing from one form to the next, the old informs the new; it influences it for better or worse. A day cannot be taken back and an experience can’t be relived; a previous shape cannot be made again. So while the appearance of the person may stay exactly the same, and many of the personality traits remain intact, the substance alters. And when something new - when a “different” person – enters back into an “old” situation, it doesn’t work very well. What once felt right and comfortable, now feels overwhelming and a bit frightening. And it’s exciting, too; it’s a chance to understand life from a new perspective; it’s fun to remember how much certain people mean to you. And in my particular instance, I have the wonderful luxury of having a year to reflect and question and try to come to an understanding of what has happened and how I can use it for both the present and the future. And not only to do that, but to do that among and with friends. But still, sometimes it would be nice if we humans had more of the properties of silly putty. The changes, though interesting (if not exciting), would many times be a bit easier if we were capable of simply fitting into the mold we were currently asked to fit.
