Time to Stretch.

I thought to myself, I'm ready to be stretched again.

That's what occurred to me, as I sat in my quiet apartment yesterday afternoon, boiling pasta for lunch because I never have time or energy to cook at night, the warm afternoon sunshine pouring into our south-facing window in the living room, making the room quite cheery, and definitely improving my mood while I read a rather long chapter from my Intercultural Communication textbook. It was then that this thought occurred to me, in that warm and comfortable moment, and I glanced outside to consider how cold that early December air really was outside, contrasting with the pleasant sunlight splashing over my pages. I thought, I'm ready to experience another new culture, to be suddenly and even violently thrown into a foreign environment again. Somewhere where I've never been and where I'm forced to Listen, and really Pay Attention, and Think Hard, and Act Carefully, and finally, to relish those moments that I love so much, when I Get Out Of My Element, and Enjoy the Moment completely. I ready for that again.

You know, the travel bug really isn't very convenient. (I was rather cozy, as you'll recall, in that afternoon study time.) Because that's what (mostly) caused that thought in the first place.

I've been spoiled in the last year: lived in Spain for a semester, visited China, helped briefly in Mexico. What will the next year bring? Most likely, a whole lot less international travel. And that's a bummer for me, as you might guess by now, because I found I really enjoy new situations that require me to stretch myself.

Allow me to use a metaphor, albeit not the most original one. Being stretched beyond one's comfort zone is a bit like exercise. May it be understood, reader, that I don't like to exercise just for the sake of doing it. It's painful and tiring and often discouraging. But I've decided that my muscles themselves, however, actually do like it. They do like that pain, a day later, when I'm aching from running because I haven't run in three weeks. Why? Because that pain means that I have lactic acid built up from all that exertion, which meant I actually worked my muscles, instead of just wishing I had. That pain reminds me that my muscle fibers got broken and are rebuilding stronger connections, a powerful testimony to the body's ability to adapt. I even like to think that my muscles like exercise because that pain reminds me that they (some I didn't even know I had) still exist! And finally, it's good because exercise gets me back in touch with my physical self as well, reminding me that--although my full-time status is a student who relies on her brain for her classwork--I am muscle, joint and bone, too.

New experiences abroad are like that: No, I don't really like taking the wrong bus and taking two extra hours to accomplish an errand because I didn't understand the bus system. No, I don't really like breathing super-contaminated air... or getting squashed into a subway train... or eating rice for 5 days in a row when it's never my first choice otherwise. But there's a part in me that does enjoy all of those things, that really thrives on those hard, confusing and strange experiences. Because those things make for good memories and stories, and they are all a part of the experience. Because they stretch me and they remind me that I am vibrantly and actively alive.

But alas, no international travel on the horizon for awhile (as far as I know). Instead, it's [insert ominous orchestral music here] graduation that I'm facing at the end of next semester, which constitutes as the Biggest Unknown that I have ever encountered in my life to date. Considering my previously-mentioned affinity for change and new things, I should be excited, right? I should be stoked that it's time again for something new and different, right?

Wrong. I'm not. Those of you who know me on a day-to-day basis may know that I'm not at all looking forward to being "stretched" as I step out into that thick gray fog of Uncertainty. And you know why I don't? Because I don't see it like a travel experience. Looking for a job or the next resume-building experience couldn't possibly be as exciting as exploring a foreign culture, I tell myself. Rather, I just see it as a worrisome, overwhelming burden that will never really become clear. But maybe I should. Maybe, just maybe, I'd look forward to post-graduation more if I chose to view it as another "foreign adventure."

Huh. I honestly have to stop and think about that for a moment. What if?

I guess the biggest reason why I haven't so far is that this next adventure doesn't end. It doesn't have a definite Return Date stamped on the ticket, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to write a neat What I Learned statement with souvenirs for everyone at the end... or, if I don't like the experience, I can't just go back "home" and forget it ever happened: wherever I go next, whatever I do next, is home. Basically, the way I see it, unless I do master's work at the same university immediately afterward, college graduation is a One Way Ticket to The Next Adventure. And that freaks me out.

Now, I'm probably dramatizing this a bit. Perhaps. I'm just writing frankly here, but maybe somebody reading this agrees with me. What I'm getting at is this: I have been preparing my whole life for adventures that end: classes end each year or semester. Traditional (legal) dependence on parents ends at eighteen. High school ends after senior year. College also ends after completing a certain number of credits and requirements, which is, normally, in about four years. But now I am faced with the indefinite: I could take a job and work at it for as long (or as short) as I liked. I could move and stay there the rest of my life, if I wanted to. No longer is someone else providing a predetermined time constraint on the next stage of my life. Think about that!

Sure, there will inevitably still be "stages" or "eras" of my life after graduation, in terms of where I live, or what job I take, or singleness to (perhaps) married life. But the expectations for when (or how) those will happen are completely gone, or at least completely arbitrary. Hm... Maybe that's what bothers me so much: the expectations for the timeline of my life will disappear after graduation, and the loss of that structure is disconcerting or scary or something.

But I refuse to leave this winding, fearful thought process at that. This is where the lesson from international travel and exercise serve me well: I may fear a future I don't have expectations for, but something inside of me does want to look forward to it, to see it like another exciting adventure or beneficial training.

Furthermore, this is exactly, where my faith in an omniscient, caring and active God comes into play and rescues me from this tendency toward overly-melancholy and fearful pondering. Because what a relief it is to know:

"All the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be." (Psalm 139:16)

And, even more so,

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, 

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

Amen. (That means I'm fervently agreeing with the previous statement, by the way, not necessarily ending a prayer.) So today I'm deciding those assurances are enough for me and my foggy future. They allow me to leave tomorrow and post-graduation in God's capable hands, freeing me up to to embrace this next big change because it means more great stories, new lessons, painful but beautiful growth, and maybe, just maybe, the Best Stretch Yet.

Honestly thoughtful, I remain honestly yours,
Ellen P.

P.S. Pertaining to the topic, if you haven't seen the movie Post Grad (2009), you really should. It expands these thoughts with wit and good humor... although personally the ending might be too neat to realistically accept.