I've been in Boston for ten days now, and I'm finally getting there. Not to the sweet, familiar, home-y spot yet, but I'm starting to feel progress. I spent the first few days fighting that trapped, lost feeling– not that I was ever actually sad, but those feelings were just under the surface, threatening to come spilling out if I let them.
Which is why I spent the first week here keeping myself busy. I only work three days a week, which means I have a lot of downtime. This is definitely something I'm thankful for– it means I have time to explore the city, but in the first few days, it meant I had time to be isolated in my room, which is maybe not a good thing. So I did everything I could think of to distract myself. I wandered around Cambridge, went for runs along the river, rewatched my favorite TV shows, and on Sunday, ventured downtown to real, big-city Boston.
Now I'm getting there. I'm getting settled, counting the days less often. It's strange, getting familiar with a life that is so unlike my normal life. I work in a giant building (that looks like this, in case you're interested. yes, that's a giant TV on the outside of the building. yes, it's the building where they made ZOOM and Curious George and probably many more of your favorite childhood shows.) where I have to swipe my badge to get into the bathroom. Because it is a dang nice bathroom, I tell you what. I live in an apartment that is old but renovated to be super nice, with high ceilings and fancy countertops and windows that flood the kitchen with sunlight in the afternoons, with a roommate who is absolutely lovely but nothing like me.
All of this is good, but it's just so different. I'm still desperately clinging to familiar things: afternoons in Panera, drinking Diet Pepsi and reading Grantland. Searching Google Maps for the nearest Target and Moe's. Eating barbecue for dinner while watching every second of the NFL Draft coverage. (aside: I'm only just now realizing that all of my comfort zones include food and sports. huh. I guess that says all you need to know about me.) I think it's normal to gravitate to familiarity, but I don't want to stay there all summer.
Yesterday was the first day that I really felt like it clicked. It might have had something to do with the fact that it was 82 degrees outside (not normal, they tell me. bummer.), but I finally felt a peace I hadn't had since moving here ten days ago. While watching my church online on Sunday (praise the Lord for technology, right?), one of the verses really smacked me in the chest. John 15:11 says,
"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete."
Goodness. I knew immediately that verse was for me, especially in this season. A complete joy. That's what I need. Not a joy that is half here, half in Alabama. A joyful spirit that is completely, 100%, all in for Boston. So that's what I'm working for these days: a sold-out, recklessly joyful and happy heart.
I'll let you know how that goes.
Which is why I spent the first week here keeping myself busy. I only work three days a week, which means I have a lot of downtime. This is definitely something I'm thankful for– it means I have time to explore the city, but in the first few days, it meant I had time to be isolated in my room, which is maybe not a good thing. So I did everything I could think of to distract myself. I wandered around Cambridge, went for runs along the river, rewatched my favorite TV shows, and on Sunday, ventured downtown to real, big-city Boston.
Now I'm getting there. I'm getting settled, counting the days less often. It's strange, getting familiar with a life that is so unlike my normal life. I work in a giant building (that looks like this, in case you're interested. yes, that's a giant TV on the outside of the building. yes, it's the building where they made ZOOM and Curious George and probably many more of your favorite childhood shows.) where I have to swipe my badge to get into the bathroom. Because it is a dang nice bathroom, I tell you what. I live in an apartment that is old but renovated to be super nice, with high ceilings and fancy countertops and windows that flood the kitchen with sunlight in the afternoons, with a roommate who is absolutely lovely but nothing like me.
All of this is good, but it's just so different. I'm still desperately clinging to familiar things: afternoons in Panera, drinking Diet Pepsi and reading Grantland. Searching Google Maps for the nearest Target and Moe's. Eating barbecue for dinner while watching every second of the NFL Draft coverage. (aside: I'm only just now realizing that all of my comfort zones include food and sports. huh. I guess that says all you need to know about me.) I think it's normal to gravitate to familiarity, but I don't want to stay there all summer.
Yesterday was the first day that I really felt like it clicked. It might have had something to do with the fact that it was 82 degrees outside (not normal, they tell me. bummer.), but I finally felt a peace I hadn't had since moving here ten days ago. While watching my church online on Sunday (praise the Lord for technology, right?), one of the verses really smacked me in the chest. John 15:11 says,
"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete."
Goodness. I knew immediately that verse was for me, especially in this season. A complete joy. That's what I need. Not a joy that is half here, half in Alabama. A joyful spirit that is completely, 100%, all in for Boston. So that's what I'm working for these days: a sold-out, recklessly joyful and happy heart.
I'll let you know how that goes.