Routine - December 5th

It's been three weeks and I haven't written a blog. I haven't been inspired. Life since my uncle Phil's untimely passing has been fairly mundane. I had the honor of speaking briefly at Phil's funeral, which was amazing. Meanwhile, I've been working evenings for a bank in Leeds, which is about an hour-and-a-half commute from where I live. My job is basically data entry, with a bit of problem solving thrown in. It's easy enough, it pays well for a single guy, but it has really taken a lot out of me, especially with the commute and not getting home until after midnight every day. I haven't been sleeping well, and I'm trying to figure out good sleeping and eating habits, while maintaining an active social life. It's been challenging and unknown to me. But the truth is that what I've been going through is nothing compared to what my family here is experiencing. I've only been here for the tail end of Phil's struggle with cancer, but in such a short time I glimpsed a snapshot of how hard the battle has been for my family. Up until the last week or so, they've been exhausted. It's been two years, and now they can finally relax, but that relaxation is mixed with grief and a fierce sadness for the man they've lost. It's incredibly bittersweet.

But we're all starting to get back into a normal routine. You'd think routine would be a welcome change for me, but the truth is it feels horrible. I'm bored and I've ended up falling back into the same old bad habits I had in Boise that led me to want a change in the first place. Of course, I knew this would happen. Moving somewhere doesn't change a person. They're the same person, just in a different location. I know that, and I knew that before I came. That's why I've always been telling people that I'm here because God told me to (which is true), not because I think it will radically change me or change my life. I have to keep my eyes on the big picture of what's going on and why God has led me here.

I've tried a couple of things to spice it up, like planning trips, hanging out with new people, anything to try to switch up the routine. But since I now have a set schedule with no foreseeable future end date, it's kind of hard to think of this as an “adventure” any more. This trip has become normal life now, and this always happens after a big change, but I sort of hoped it wouldn't this time. Life becomes less exciting, I start having a hard time staying awake and alive, and I start shrinking back into my shell, into my safety zone.

I'm afraid of doing anything else, of just getting up out of my chair at work, prancing out the door, and walking into something new - some new adventure, to keep that spark of flight alive in my mind and that zing of adrenaline in my bones. But I need to save money, so here I am. That's the big picture. Save up money, write, and maybe have something to publish at some point so that I can pursue writing as a career and leave monotony behind. In the meantime, though, it's so incredibly boring. I wonder how long I can keep this up.

Every night I take the nearly abandoned train home from Leeds, and then I walk home from there. The walk is usually cold and bitter, but on this particular day, as I'm walking home from the station on yet another cold English night, I can see the final train leaving the station on the tracks across the valley. I can feel the cold, humid air pressing against my skin, seeping into my pores, straight to my bloodstream, all the way into the core of my heart. I feel the weight of God all around me. And in this moment, despite everything else going on, despite my own grief for the uncle I hardly knew, despite feeling stagnant and regressed, despite feeling the groaning for what I have yet to step into, I know that I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

Song of the day: