I have always lived in community, intimately and integrally. Now that I've moved out, I find the hardest part is the lack of that community.
Some would simply adapt, and their world would shrink without too much trouble. I hope that I do not do this. I long for another community, to feel the joys and sorrows with, to identify with and support and be supported by. I long for a family to live life alongside. Now that I am moved out, I seek not further independence, but an appropriate codependence.
As I was sitting on my bed this morning, letting YouTube shorts suck my soul dry for two hours, I came to ask myself why I was doing this. I had thought that once I was out and fully responsible for myself, it would make me feel more motivated, not less. But without my family, it all just feels so empty. So meaningless.
When I was at home, I cared about my own happiness, but that happiness was connected to the status of the home and family. Now, my own individual happiness feels pointless. Shallow.
It draws me back to the catechism question: What is the chief end of man?
The answer: To glorify God and to enjoy him forever.
For as long as I can remember, I have known this catechism question and answer. I have considered it, but I have considered it mostly theoretically, because I have never seriously had to grapple with what this means on a day by day basis. It was all laid out for me as a child. Glorifying God means obeying my parents and loving my siblings and following God's commandments. That's hard enough, isn't it?
But as a single woman living apart from her family, learning how to glorify God is a new challenge. It's no longer about not spending all my time watching TV because my parents wouldn't like it, or keeping my room clean to serve my sister, or staying joyful so I don't bring the mood down for the others. It's just me and God.
---
I began this post on May 31st, and haven't come back to it until now, a month and a half later. It feels much longer than a month and a half.
I had my wisdom teeth taken out on Monday (it's Thursday now) and so I sort of temporarily moved back in with my parents so that my mother can care for me in my convalescence. I've been on several meds, taking either Ibuprofen or Tylenol every four hours, a steroid for swelling several times a day, an antibiotic every 8 hours, a strong mouth rinse twice a day... I've been pretty out of it.
Monday I slept, did some work, watched two movies, cried when the pain got too bad, and generally spent almost the whole day on the sofa, which I don't think was a bad use of my time considering the circumstances.
Tuesday I spent a lot of the day on the sofa, working some, but also watching political commentary on YouTube, and then went to see Sound of Freedom with my parents in the afternoon. And then I think I just watched more YouTube. Honestly, I have no recollection of that evening, but I feel like my week has been inundated with YouTube.
Wednesday (yesterday), I watched Sound of Music in the morning, and then went to see a buddy fly an airplane for the first time, got taken to Cookout by my parents for milkshakes, video called Sister #3 in the afternoon and got to talk to her and my nephews, one of whom referred to me by the exact sound he uses to say "banana" and the other of whom just barked at me like a dog, and then some friends came over and we watched High School Musical together. Phenomenal movie. Then I stayed up until 2:30AM watching YouTube videos. Like a chump.
Today I watched some YouTube videos (I know, shocking), and then me and my dad went to my apartment to pick up my bathing suit, I came home, lazed around, made some tapioca pudding, and then something happened.
Maybe it's because I'm largely going without pain meds today for the first time since the surgery, or maybe it's just because I've developed more discipline since moving out and am used to being more active now, but sometime around 3 o'clock, things shifted.
I told my mother, "I'm going for a walk. I'm not bringing my phone, so just holler if you need me."
"You're not bringing your phone?" she asked in obvious surprise.
"Nope," I said firmly. "Just holla."
And off I went, down to the pond, and then back up to the shop where my dad was working on a project for Sister #1. I helped him move a piece of plexiglass, and then told him I was going to continue my walk. He said, "You know, you could bring the four wheeler on your walk."
Obviously, I scoffed at this and said it wouldn't make for a very good walk. But when I started to pass the four wheeler, I thought, "Why not?"
I changed out of my little sandals into my thrift store Vans that are literally falling apart because I played soccer in them after my cleats fell apart, and spent a while zooming around. I went up the driveway and down to the pond, and back in the woods and around again. It was freeing and invigorating.
I came inside. I stretched for forty minutes while listening to Ben Shapiro.
Let me use the next few paragraphs to lay out my theory for you.
When I was living at home, I was never bored, but I wasn't exactly productive. I spent my time, but I didn't really redeem my time. I never quite had the energy or, frankly, the need to. And as much as I would love to claim that I was self-motivated, the evidence says that I was not.
Living on my own (you know, for the long month and a half), I've had to learn to enjoy doing the things that are productive rather than comfortable. Cooking, grocery shopping, doing laundry, budgeting, etc. And now that that part of my brain has been activated, I can't exactly turn it off. So, I want to be productive...but I've learned what that means when I'm at the War Groover Hermitage (my apartment). I haven't yet fully learned what that means when I'm living at the Ancestral Hall, especially not when I started this stay as an invalid.
My subconscious answer to this dilemma has been to pour my attention into something that feels important - politics. That's why I've been consuming all the YouTube commentary. Because even though it's not actually the most helpful thing I could be doing, it still feels productive because I'm thinking about things that call for action. Not that I'm actually providing that action.
I don't really know what the takeaway is here. Yet again, I'm up late at night finishing a blog post that I didn't really think through all the way.
I don't have a neat ending to tie it up. But I'm tired. So I'm going to do the productive thing, and go to bed rather than spend more time on this.
