moss on a rolling stone: October 2014

This evening I returned home to do adult things - laundry, work out at the Y where I actually know the floor plan, bum dinner off of my super successful parental units, etc. At some point in our extremely important adult conversations about politics and the end to world hunger (also known as "how was your day? good, how was your trip to Atlanta" and so on and so forth), we took a humble pause long enough for my father, bearer of all grand ideas, to propose a great idea:

"Laura, you're kind of still living that life of a rolling stone. Have you thought about keeping up your blog?"

So thanks to the source of all my great ideas, my father, here's the latest in the life of Laura Lynn:

The transition to the "real world" was a hard one. I missed my newfound best friends Dan and Jay. I missed the world where my only responsibilities were getting our team fed, and getting safely to the next host on a bike. I missed constantly being surrounded by people who have purpose, and who embrace that purpose, and who fought for their purpose. Most of all, I missed the celebration.

All of those things I just listed were things that I longed for a return of. I wanted to be on my bike all day again, and spend time with my b&b friends again. All but that last one. The last one is translated a bit differently. I sincerely missed the celebration. It came, and it went, and I never knew that we had finished the ride until weeks after returning to Nashville. As with every large group of people who are constantly living in extremely close quarters (as if the entire United States wasn't a large enough dwelling place), there were definitely some sour moments that pulled my attention from the celebration. I was so focused on trying to reel us back in, and trying to learn some kind of lesson from our soap-opera ending that I exhausted myself to the point of falling asleep on the beach just after sunset. Just after our dance party, and spewing champagne, and diving into the ocean, I quit, and I missed the celebration.

It's kind of a good thing though. I've never been one for closure. Missing out on this moment of closure has allowed me to, kind of, continue on an adventure.

When we left Oregon, Jay, Dan, Natalie and I drove through the night to Baker, NV to drop Natalie off for more adventures. We continued on the Denver, CO where I hugged the guys goodbye and hopped on a plane. The plane landed, I went to bed in Nashville, and started my job at Holy Family at 9am the next morning. Again, closure really ain't no thang.

I've spent the last 2 months trying to seek adventure in the same way we did this summer. I've ventured to see friends in Birmingham, Augusta, Columbia, Spartanburg, Knoxville, and Chattanooga. Some of those ventures were decided on within an hour of leaving town. I've ridden my bike almost every day, or at least every other day.

I ride my bike to work most days, where I've found that I care way more than I thought I would about high school students in Brentwood. I go to students' athletic events on a whim and off the clock because its something that I care about, and not something that I'm required to do. And now, I'm kind of on my own while my boss does this thing where she's raising the kid she just birthed last week. She left in the middle of Bible study, the next morning she had a new baby, and I had 100 more kids & parents to worry about. It's terrifying and awesome.

I started working at the coffee shop where I sat while I did my b&b exit interview on the phone with Natalie & Brendan. I hung up after that call, submitted my application there, and interviewed to start working there the next day. I'm still training, but it's the perfect part-time to supplement all the work that I'm doing at Holy Family.

I still haven't settled into a lease or rental agreement, because I can't convince myself that I'm ready to sit still, and because great opportunities have appeared out of nowhere. I'm currently living in a parishioner's pool house for the month, and next month I'll apartment sit for a friend's friend's cousin (not making this up). By then, I might have some kind of more permanent decision, or I might just keep finding month-by-month living situations.

So yeah, Dad was right when he said that I'm still on that rolling stone. And this is kind of exactly where I want to be. I'm proud of the work that I'm doing. I'm passionate about the work that I'm doing. And I'm surviving on the shelter provided by the grace of strangers, the food provided by my church-paycheck, and by the adventures provided by something that I found this summer.

Still not enough of an update? Here are some pictures: