These are not my people, I am not of this group. It's a feeling that has been prevalent in my life. It is exceptionally difficult to find one's "people." They are a unique sort and it's impossible how to define who they are, but I know them when I meet them.
I feel isolated and alone. I feel bored and restless.
In our society, these feelings often generate conversations about hobbies, or depression and counselling. In my personal opinion, I am thankful for them. Solitude is not something to fear, and there is much to learn from silence.
My life is on the cusp (or in the infancy stages) of great change. I know that this year will bring tremendous loss, new experiences, and unspeakable challenges. I know that I will grieve. I know that I will celebrate. I know I will cry. I've already cried. I've also sat wrapped up in a blanket in my grandfather's chair, completely silent... devoid of the ability to put words to emotions. Unable to cry. Unable to cheer. Just present.
Peppered in with the silence is laughter. I am learning that joy can be abundant even in the midst of the dark night of the soul. I am learning what Love looks like, without the emotional camp highs and lows. I am learning what Loving God looks like, through a faithful, steadfast lens. I am learning what worship looks like, what prayer looks like, what relationship looks like, in silence.
My childlike mind craves the noise. My heart hungers and lusts after the emotional experiences. St. John of the Cross explains it so perfectly, much better than I. Learning to Love with a heart that craves passion, is a beautiful torment of the soul.
I know I am moving through darkness to dawn.
