From Wings and Milkshakes to Sushi and Wine

Thursday night in a hotel room, wine glass in hand, dark soy sauce spots and wooden chopsticks are the only evidence of the vegetarian sushi and seasonal lettuces that was dinner. I am continuously reminded how much of a cliche my life has become. A far cry from the penny-pinching late night hot wing and milkshake runs of my college days, another cliche I suppose.

So much has changed since my last blog post that I barely recognize my old life and yet as I read through my posts I realize how much I am still the same. Like an old swing at a child's playground or perhaps the creaky old chair at your grandma's house, I feel like I have seen so much change, so much growth; people have come and gone, ideas have been born and passions have died. I have laughed, I have cried, I have worked, I have played, I have hated and I have loved. And yet, at my core I haven't changed. Like that old, rusting swing, people, nay life, appears to be in a constant movement of coming on and going off, but I feel like I am exactly where I started: struggling to reconcile the me I do not fully know, with a life I do not fully understand and a faith I am as much perplexed by as I am drawn to.

I am at once terrified and comforted by this idea. Terrified because this cycle sounds at best boring and at once soul crushing. The monotony seems to beg the cries of the philosopher, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity". If I am not changing, if I still am only sure of so little, and have the same questions about everything else at what point do I just throw in the towel and stop holding on to the same stubborn queries.

But right there is the gem of comfort that doesn't just keep me holding on, it fills me with a hope that gets me going. The gem that pushes me to open my heart wide to what I see coming, even as I know it soon will leave. To laugh and cry and love when I know I will just do it all over again soon. Because maybe, I don't want everything to change. Maybe the fact that I still have the same questions I did when I lived as a student working two jobs, in a different city, living a different life with different people is a sign. Not that the pursuit of the answers are meaningless but that, on the contrary, the questions are of enduring import. It wasn't a mistake of time and space that has me pondering the meaning of my life, my purpose in it, whether we can ever know the answer to these and how we can invite others along for the journey.

I don't know what it is that you keep coming back to: the questions or don't dare hope will ever be answered, or the dreams you don't dare believe could be true...but you still do, just a little bit. Maybe it isn't that you keep coming back to these things, but rather they keep coming to you. Maybe you aren't stuck in rut, too weak to let things go. Maybe your questions, your hopes and dreams, even your concerns are too vital for them to let you go. Hard as it may be keep laughing and crying and loving. Keep asking and hoping and wishing. Maybe the answers are just that worth it - and they think that you are too.

And remember, you aren't on the journey alone.

Your fellow traveler,

Bisous!

TU