For the first time in a long time I have lived at the same address for more than a year. We're actually going on three years and it feels wonderful. I adore my neighbors, love the land and feel very accomplished with the transformation of our barndominium. It's a beautiful life and fabulous place to live.
I have time and I love how I spend it. I speak to the sky, pet the faces of my donkeys, sing in the garden and talk to the trees. My children are growing and I am grateful to be able to hold their hands as they do. My husband is thriving with his business and making our dreams come to life.
It is glorious and I am grateful and yet there is a piece missing: my tribe.
We have family within a few hours drive and a few lovely friendships in the works, but I am missing my in-person soul family. I wonder if this is simply the path of someone like me. Or if others might relate to what I am describing. Especially after the massive life overhaul that healing from chronic illness requires of someone.
I feel like a very different version of myself. The old operating system got completely revamped and it is as though I am more myself than ever before but have yet to introduce this new version to the world. The years of self-isolation in the cocoon phase were deeply necessary and important and part of me really loved being wrapped up in the midst of the inner work. I have journals and blog posts and pictures galore. A strengthened connection to the divine essence and can see it everywhere I look. It has been quite a profound experience and one I wouldn't trade. This version of me I have chiseled out over the years is here to stay and I absolutely love her. I am so much more comfortable than I have ever been in my life.
But I also feel like an alien.
I took my children to the local football game on Friday and accidentally plopped myself down in the student section without realizing it. My kids took off, my husband was away hunting and I sat there by myself on my bleacher chair in my Alaska hat and baggy overalls. The student section stood to cheer on the players and the band squeaked out an unrecognizable tune and I was reminded of the olden days of high school when I used to play in the marching band. I adored being in the band. It was a safe place and I loved being surrounded by others and part of a big group. I texted my sister and she wrote back right away. "Ohhh yeah, the ole alien feels. I get chuuuu." I love her. Thank goodness for sisters.
As I sat there, I began to think about the times in my life when I felt like I most belonged. There was my childhood family of course. And then there were different sports teams, the marching band, my group of college girlfriends and being part of the staff at the 4UR Ranch. Wagon trains, family reunions and Thanksgiving dinners. The group of young moms in Colorado and especially my sister-in-law's family at the ranch. Our kids were the same ages and for a few precious years we spent all of our time together. We took walks, made meals, went swimming, did laundry and watched one another's babies. That was the time in my life when I felt the most supported. Side-by-side sisterhood. What a gift.
Memories washed over me and all of a sudden I felt incredibly old, awkward and alone. As I longed to go home or at least to have a friend to sit with, I wondered if other people feel this way, too. I ended up finding my daughter's friend's sweet mom and we had a great conversation for the rest of the game. It felt really good.
But the alien vibes still followed me around afterwards and I scrolled on Instagram when I got home. I found photos of what seemed to be likeminded women planting seeds and raising kiddos and dancing in the trees. Making jelly and harvesting squash and singing just like I do. Social media is great for certain things, but this time it just made me feel even lonelier. How do I find other people like me?
There are quite a few churches in our little town and I know that belonging to one offers an immediate sense of community and fellowship. But I have never been religious and feel like I am being tightly squeezed every time I step into a church, no matter the denomination. It doesn't feel good to me. While I appreciate belonging to a group and would love to find my own deep connections, my heart has been down this path many times and I know I won't find it inside a building on a Sunday morning.
I long to have people over to prepare dinners and share meals. To trade stories and ideas. To share the trials and tribulations that raising a family presents to all of us. I want to feel safe to be myself and for them to be themselves. To be able to have interesting and challenging conversations. To see the beautiful humanness in each of our faces and to offer one another a deep sense of belonging.
For now I will continue to live this slow, natural life of mine. Taking pictures, writing things down, growing food and trying my best to raise my kids. I'll keep the door open to the possibilities of friendship, community and belonging. If you are also looking for a friend feel free to get ahold of me, especially if you also feel like an alien. I'd love to take a walk and share our ideas. I am ready for you.
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