Move Along

I had the immense joy of taking a mini-vacation to Birmingham for almost 4 days this past weekend. Caught up with friends at the dojo, my old church, and my alma mater, Samford University. It was great to see folks again - I've got a lot of "family" down in Birmingham, and it was high time to pay them all a visit. I hope to do it again soon.

One of my suitemates and close friends from my senior year still lives in the room we had, so I was able to stay on campus with her. My time on campus was the same as it always was, in some respects, but also completely other. When I first drove in the main gates, I displayed my old ID card (which I kept for just such purposes), but I needn't have bothered; as usual, our campus safety barely glanced at it before waving me through.

The drive to my old dorm was surreal. I was driving the old familiar paths, breaking the traffic rules I always used to when I would get on campus late at night, but I was keenly aware that this was not my home anymore. Everything was as it had been while I was there, except me. I was a visitor now. It was a very strange feeling.

The next morning, I got up early and visited a class one of my favorite professors from my major was teaching: Introduction to Philosophy. My professor hasn't changed a bit, and neither has the curriculum material, just me. I still thoroughly enjoyed listening to the lesson - Intro still ranks as one of my favorite philosophy classes - but I know where everything's going, and I'm not going there with the others in the class. No more money on my card for the Caf or the Food Court, no access to the university WiFi, and so on. But I know where everything is, I know who most of the workers are, I know where to park... I know my old home.

I met with my former advisor to chat and catch up, and he described that surreal feeling as being ousted. It's like you've been shut out. I see where he's coming from, and there's definitely that feeling that the world forgot to stop turning while I was away, but I wouldn't say I've been shut out from the world I had in Birmingham, but it doesn't include me anymore. I'm welcome to visit, but I'm not a resident.

The thing that I found particularly interesting about this development in my life is how it affected my sense of responsibility. Outside of those old comfortable places, I'm now responsible for continuing what I started with them. I'm responsible for using what they gave me and making something of myself, to honor their sacrifice and input in my life. I didn't feel that weight when I was in school, because I was still in preparation.

I guess you could think of it as still being in the womb, where everything is still growing and getting ready for the outside world. I'm still learning how to deal with things now that I'm out here, but I think realizing where I am is a step in the right direction.

There's a phrase we use a lot in the Bujinkan (the martial art I study), which means something like, "keep up the good work" or "keep going." The term is used as encouragement, as a promise, as a dedication or a battle cry.

To myself and all the other recent college grads who are out on their own, ganbatte kudosai!!