The Schooner

I'm craving a road trip. When I was a kid, we went on lots of them. Long rides were the best because Mom was always prepared with stickers, coloring books, music, books on tape, paper dolls, and gobs of snacks. I still asked "how long 'til we get there?" quite a bit, and it was always on my mind, but for the most part, I was preoccupied until we reached the destination.

That's what I'm doing right now: preoccupying myself until I reach the destination. This destination happens to be out of this world, and scores of years down the road, but the principle is the same.

I'm waiting, waiting, waiting. I'm tired of waiting, but who isn't? I'm bored with life, am craving an adventure...but when I try to think of something that would be adventurous, and crazy, and loud, and loads of fun, when I get to the root of my imagination I find that if the dream were actualized, it wouldn't fill the void I'm trying to fill. I would still have that ache, that itch, for something more satisfying.

Mr. Palmer called it fernweh.
Sheldon Vanauken called it a schooner.
C. S. Lewis called sehnsucht.

I am less eloquent. I call it nothing-is-satisfying-or-fun-enough-so-get-me-out-of-here-already.

My soul has the capacity for so much more. I realize that capacity when I'm watching the sunset over Florence from the steps of Piazza Michelangelo, or when I'm laying under a starry sky (San Lorenzo or Bradford County) with a friend, or staring out across an ocean or hugging someone I love a lot. Moments like that―the moments I thought would fulfill me, particularly the moments that included world travel―are the moments when the soul-ache is worst, though. I feel least fulfilled because I tap into the emptiness by attempting to fill it with the best this world has to offer.

Over and over again, it doesn't work. When a day is over, I'm glad it's over. I'm glad a third of my life is spent sleeping, because this world―

It sucks and it's boring.

Stuff used to excite me: the prospect of having a significant other and "my own place," having a degree, something published, having travel journals filled with memories... etc. I suppose I still anticipate those things, if/whenever they may happen. But more and more those things are not an end in themselves.

They are just stickers on my road trip to heaven.

A little diversion during this life that is mostly work and sick days.

I do go to work, plus I've got school going on (1/4 way through the semester). The only reason I'm doing any of it is because God says work is good. He also says a six-day work week is good, so I'm trying not to whine about not having a Saturday. At least I have Sundays off. The interesting thing about my schedule is I never requested that that be my one day off, it just happened. Unlike Lowe's where I requested Sundays off literally 4 times to 3 different people, and got a theoretical all-clear every time, but would still be scheduled. Huh.

Anyhow, work is boring, but not working would be more boring so I'll keep coloring. School is boring but it's keeping my mind occupied. Driving could be fun, but thanks to NY's over-achieving troopers, instead every day is an hour-long lesson in self-control. Running is hard but I'm supposed to be healthy. It all fills up the hours. Also, people. They are a pain and it's not fun when they take their anger out on me, but people are also delightful, and sometimes I get these random urges to hug everyone and tell them Jesus loves them. It's an urge I shall probably never follow through, since that's "not how it's done."

Loving on people is the one thing that still excites me during this wait.

That, and food.