This labor day weekend is one of my favorite weekends of the entire year. It is my Christmas, my solace. It is the time I splurge and let myself have more of what I need than I usually do. It refills me. It shifts me back onto track and I feel home. Though I was alone for most of this year's storytelling festival, I felt less and less lonely.
I'm in this place of total uncertainty. I'm in between homes, between jobs, between relationships, between schools, and between selves. I feel like Cini when she got off the plane from her Navy experience and my brother and I took her to my uncle's house (my temporary digs) with to stay with me until we could get into our new place. She sat down in the car from the airport and took a deep breath. "Umm... I'm excited to be here and for what comes next. Really, I am. I don't know if I look like it or not. I'm just... I'm in a car. A real car. I don't know how to act. I don't know what is expected of me." My reply to her was, "Just be you. I love YOU. However you come." That reply didn't seem to really solve her awkwardness, but she did calm down a little.
I totally get it.
I can imagine she was thinking, "great, I'll be me.... wait, I don't know who me is in this situation." I took her shopping because all she had was Navy uniforms and sweats. We went to six or more places she could not find anything that was her. I asked her what her style was these days, maybe we were just in the wrong stores. "I, I don't know! I don't know what style I am! I don't know who I am! What looks like me? I don't even know what I look like! I have no identity!" We decided we were going to have to start from scratch. We were going to create her. Ironically, in the end, the clothes she bought looked like me. I found them. I would have picked them if we were shopping for me. In fact, I was kinda looking at them for me, assuming Cini wouldn't like them, as would be the case a year ago. We came out of the store and she had some jeans and a sweater. Both looked like me.
I know, bean. I know. At least I have clothes that are my style, that's true. But I don't know who I am inside now either. I used to be RA. I used to be studying psychology. I used to be dog trainer. I used to be somebody. Now I'm on the bottom rung again but I don't even know what kind of ladder this is. It's not the ladder I've been climbing to get to. It's like a stupid little step stool in between. My insides feel naked, like I'm wandering in and out of stores, trying on personalities, wondering, "is this me?" I've tried on the "I'm so passed you and don't need to do college over again through you" style and the "I'll tell you exactly what I'm thinking, even when I shouldn't" style and the "resurrected RA" style (mentoring everyone - even those that don't want it). I've tried the "whatever, I don't care" style. None of them fit well or looked like me. I've fiddled with the idea of just sporting the "someone save me" style again. For me, this is kinda like that shirt you really don't like to wear anymore (at least not in public) because it's stained pretty bad and there are some holes, but I can't seem to throw it out because it was a shirt that kept me warm through so much. And you never know when you just might need it in some desperate situation. And you know it fits and it's comfortable and it's really cheap, in fact it's free, already in your closet, and you just need something to cover yourself at this point, so you stare at it forever wondering if it is really a good idea to wear it in public instead of going out and buying a new shirt - which can be expensive and time consuming and is always a gamble in durability and comfort. It took all my energy, but I left it on the hanger in my closet and shut the closet door. Lastly, I settled for the "emperor's new" style and shut down pretty completely, not leaving my room inside at all, not talking to others that I don't have to.
I've felt pretty naked, staying busy, so I wouldn't have to leave my room inside. And this was how I was when I left to go to the storytelling festival. I sat by myself. I didn't eat, by myself. I listened by myself. I didn't laugh even though I would have, if I wasn't by myself. Then, I ran into my storytelling teacher at my second story hour. We never really had very many private conversations. We aren't particularly close. I've just performed my stories for her and been graded by her. I learned a lot in her class, but mostly from my classmates (she mostly just facilitated learning from each other. She never lectured or even demonstrated in class). She's seen my former internal style more than I've seen hers. She saw me. I walked over and said hello because I couldn't pretend we didn't just meet each others eyes. I was expecting to quickly turn back around and sit in my spot, alone. She had a very cute safari animal shirt on. It wasn't my style, but I loved it.
"Jill, I don't know why, but I've been thinking about you all day long!!!!" I haven't had contact with her since class ended in April. The way she looked at me and hugged me, I felt that she'd be excited to see me, however I came. Basically, it took about ten seconds for it to sink in deep that I needed her today. So I got my stuff and sat a couple rows back from her, just to be near her. She saw me behind her. Without a word, she grabbed her stuff and moved to sit next to me just as the storyteller was beginning. That move there begged me to come out of my inner room, naked. It was a little embarrassing but NOT lonely. Halfway through the story, I felt the intense desire to lean against her shoulder. I needed touch. I debated for a while. What's appropriate? Is this totally weird? Is this crossing a boundary? She was my professor at a University! Normal people with clothes on the inside would probably not do this even on a dare... But I didn't have those clothes. I didn't know if it was weird, unacceptable or not. So I just did it. and asked if it was okay. She said yes and put her arm around me and held me. Tears welled up. She accepted me, fully exposed and vulnerable on the inside.
At the end of that story, I got up to go to a different tent. "Thank you." I said, eyes watery. "I have been thinking about you all day long, Jill." she said into my eyes. "I think I really needed you today." I said, biting my lip, standing there with my insides bare and vulnerable. "Don't stop needing me, Jill." she said, and I left. But I realized as I walked away, on my insides, I had on a shirt. It had little safari animals on it.
Now I know why Cini bought a shirt that looks like me.
We are the love we receive when our hearts are naked and vulnerable.
And to be so open-hearted and to trust someone enough to give your raw self to them is to give love.
We are the love we give.
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