Monday, November 27, 2006

heaven holds a place for those who pray (hey, hey, hey)


A good thing about the jobs I've got right now is that I don't really ever have the opportunity to get bored with or tired of seeing the same people every day or doing the same thing every day - because I don't. Every day is completely different and every day I introduce myself to people that I have never met before and am not likely to meet ever again. In some ways this works well for me. When everyone is new all the time, you don't grow contemptuous of their faults the way you do when you see them every day for years on end and don't feel compelled to roll your eyes when they show up late for a staff meeting for the seventeenth time, because there never is a seventeenth time, only a first time. And doing something irritating just once is rarely a big issue. It's nice that I spend a bit of time driving between commitments too. That's time that's still "working", but it's down time. I don't have to talk to anyone, I don't have to think about much other than staying on the road. It doesn't feel like working even though I don't really love driving the way some people do.

What is not good about the jobs I am doing right now is that I don't get a sense of community from them. When you work for five years with the guy who's always late for the staff meeting, you develop ways to cover for him or anticipate his tardiness and plan ahead for it. And meanwhile, he remembers that you always wish you had coffee halfway through a long boring meeting, and since he's already late anyway, he stops to get you one. You can communally loathe the aspects of the job that are unpleasant, and you can communally celebrate successes. Those kinds of celebrations require you to be there long enough to have made an emotional investment, the kind you don't make when you're only there for a day.

I feel a real ache where there's supposed to be the feeling of community and belonging. It reminds me very much of the Masters research that I did on the role of socialization in teaching and learning. What came out of that, for me, was the importance of the Circle of Courage, not only for First Nations children, but for all children... and not only for all children, but for all people. I miss feeling like I am a part of something bigger.

I remember when I was a teenager something happened in my mother's life... I don't know what it was, specifically, because she didn't share things like that with the kids... but I know that whatever it was left her feeling like she needed a community, and she and Dad suddenly started going to church. Not just for Christmas and Easter like they used to, but regularly, every Sunday, and she joined the choir and he joined the Leadership Committeee. And they still go now.

That's how I feel now, like I want to start going to church. Not church, specificially, because that's just symbolic, but I feel like I want to start going somewhere, or doing something, that brings me into a community that will bring me a sense of belonging.

It's a strange thing, feeling like I want to belong at the same time as I experience apprehension at being in social situations. Two forces pull me in opposite directions. No one mentions that people who suffer from Social Anxiety Disorder also suffer from loneliness.

I know I don't really have this disorder, because I put myself in social situations every day and do fine with them. But I also don't think that normal people dread social situations the way I do. I never have a problem with social settings once I've arrived and I'm in the middle of them... it's just beforehand that I feel anxious. But it's enough to make me choose isolation at times. It's enough to make me choose loneliness, at least in the short term.

But now we've been here nearly a year and a half, and it's no longer a short term plan. I guess it never really was a short term plan, but in my head I think I imagined that we would eventually go home. Shawn thinks we could still end up on the West coast which would be okay with me. His company opened two new offices, one in Texas and one in Australia. We both agree that Australia would be an exciting adventure but that Texas doesn't appeal in the least. Neither one seems particularly likely, however; it's far more likely that Shawn will outgrow his company and find a bigger and better job... and that's why the West coast looks more plausible. And also more palatable. Besides, if we lived near Vancouver, it would only be a short trek to visit friends in Seattle!

So I'm thinking about finding a community, and also thinking about uprooting again and moving and leaving behind what little community I have developed. (I do like to make things complicated for myself.) We've made some friends here.

But I want something bigger.

I realise that I need a community that is separate from Shawn. Shawn is the hub of my life, and when we go out into the community, I find that I still centre on him, even when we are out with others. We sit at a dinner table with four other couples, and I end up talking to Shawn. We go to a Christmas party with hundreds of people, and I end up talking to Shawn. It's because I find him more interesting, more entertaining, more funny than anyone else I ever meet - and yet it prevents me from making connections with other people as much as I should. When I'm out in the world by myself, I am forced to be social with strangers, and that's what I need again. I don't really know where to begin to make this happen.

The last "group" that I belonged to was my writing group, and I'd like to do something like that again, but this time I want it to be something that isn't focused on producing something. I'm feeling outrageously productive right now with enough part time jobs to make about one and a half full time jobs (without the benefits, ha), and I don't want to commit to something that will require any hours of labour from me. I don't, for a change, feel the need to add any more work to my plate and I don't have the energy to educate or improve myself right now. I just want some people to have tea with who will miss me when I'm not there and make me feel cared about. Maybe that is a lot to ask for. I'm not sure. This is why I thought of church first when I was trying to figure out who would have me. Churches take everyone.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Besides, if we lived near Vancouver, it would only be a short trek to visit friends in Seattle!

*dies of happy*

mischief said...

Please don't die-vy. I want fish and chips on the harbour.