Processes...

I realized today that I've been saying goodbye for over a month. Finally decided to stop feeling pre-emptively homesick--I need to be happy while I'm here. It's silly to miss my friends when I'm with them. I've had the same conversation over and over: "I'm leaving..." "Wow, that's so exciting for you--goodbye." It's wearing after awhile.

I didn't realize how hard this would be. The last major move I made was to come here, two days after my 18th birthday. I'll turn 35 in September, in California. I've lived my entire adult life in this place. All these relationships hold my history--let alone that I love everyone I'm leaving, and they love me.

So why on earth would I do this? What would make a hippie from Olympia move 700 miles from everything and everyone she knows? How on earth can some Greener think she hears the voice of God?

Because I do. In this path, is life. Of course I'm scared. I know I'll be challenged in every way possible. And I thank God every day for calling me. If you've experienced this, you don't need a translation. If you haven't, I don't know if there is one. I could say, I love academics. That is true. I could say, there's nothing else I really want to study. Also true, but there are cheaper and less life-disrupting ways to do that. I think what happened is that as soon as I got the guts to speak this desire, it became the only choice I had. Truth and I ran smack into each other, and bang. It's deeper than a passion; it's a voice on the other side of a door flung open. "Done wandering yet? Good. Let's go."

I need to get dinner and feed a cat. I'll write more about exactly why I'm doing this later.