A post on Community

...where Liz shows her vulnerability (this won't last very long)

Those of you who have known me for a long time have pretty much always known me to be the wanderer...the independent spirit...the whatever else you want to add.  As a little kid, I was apparently the reason that my parents had to put locks on the doors and a fence around the backyard - because at the blink of an eye they'd have to ask, "Where's Bethie?"  (there she goes, crawling through the hedges into the neighbor's yard...)  When everyone else talked about going off to college at high school graduation, I talked about moving to Argentina for a year.  I spent as much of my college years abroad as I did at Lehigh...enough for my roommates, in their so very PC way, to call me a FOB (I choose to embrace that moniker, ladies, thank you :)... So I guess it came as no surprise to anyone, least of all myself, that I chose to live a life of an expatriot (side bar - why do they call them expatriots anyway? because in my experience, those of us who live abroad and see our country from the inside and the outside, end up being even more patriotic - in the true sense of the word - than those who stay within the borders)

What did come as a surprise to me, after my 6 or so weeks here, settling into my new life, is how hard it has actually been for me.  I've had a few pensive, up-and-down moments (this is me talking, so keep it in perspective), and I've been trying to figure out what is so different this time around.  Adjusting as far as life here goes, has been a piece of cake. It's not the work and it's not the DR.  I've realized that it's what I've left behind. All the other times that I took off for one of my adventures, I left like I wasn't leaving anything behind. I mean, sure, I was leaving family and friends, but...well, I knew they would always be there for me to come back to (and they still are, and I love them dearly for that).  The independent and self-sufficient me is fine with that.  I realized, though, that whenever I left before, I always left feeling like I was the odd-ball/outsider anyway...like "we" all knew I was going to go off and do "my thing"...and that wherever I was going, perhaps I would find "my kind" there.  I found "my kind" a bit more in Peace Corps, and a lot more in grad school...then came DC.

In DC I found a community again.  To be more exact, I found several communities to be a part of.  There was my yoga studio and my meditation group, my soccer teams, my old friends, SIPA friends, and new friends as well. They all blended together and overlapped to form a comfortable support system, that I never realized how much I needed...until I left it all behind.  In DC I knew who to go to for what - who to talk to about a problem, who to go have crazy fun with, who to be contemplative with, who gave the best hugs (which I am in serious want of right now)...I know these people still exist, and that network is still there for me...but it's not the same from thousands of miles away.  So, as I slowly go about creating a new community for myself here....I guess I just want to say I love you and I miss you, my DC community.  Take care of yourselves...and keep in touch


---end of sappy, vulnerable post :-)   ---