Well, I'm changing things up a little bit over here. The blog got a mini-makeover aesthetically, and it also got a new web address. Because, as much as I (still) hate to admit it, "allisoninmalawi" is no longer in Malawi. I suppose after 2.5 years of being back in the U.S., it was finally time.
You may also have noticed that I've posted exactly twice in the past year. Needless to say, I've been a little bit busy doing things like getting married and stuff. But I've also been working, which involves staring at a computer screen from 8-5 every day, so making myself look at a computer when I get home hasn't been on the top of my to-do list. If I'm honest, though, there's more to my absence than the practical aforementioned reasons. There's been a whole host of internal processing that's just been too scrambled for words in the past year.
I was told at some point that it takes someone half as long as the time that they lived out of the country to re-adjust to being back "home". In other words, having lived in Africa for two years, it would take one year to feel "normal" again. And I found that to be a pretty conservative estimate. I'm really not here to talk about Malawi, as I know it's old news for most of you. But it's so real in my heart, and it took me a good two years to find closure and answers and simply be emotionally stable enough to let myself process the havoc that was wreaked by going from 4 years at Mississippi College to two years in Malawi to moving back into my parents' house in my hometown and entering into an inter-cultural mega-long-distance relationship. To be honest, I was a wreck. And I'm just starting to feel like I'm okay with my life again.
Writing and reading and language have always been an outlet for me. Sometimes they've been an escape. But they are always emotionally charged. I write with various combinations of logic and passion. I have never read literature without an emotional response to it. (Okay, don't tell Dr. Smith, but the closest thing to an exception would be what little I read of Shakespeare's histories. I'm sorry. I. Do. Not. Care.) In all seriousness, though, part of the reason I have been unable to write is that I have been unable to handle the emotions involved in letting myself process, whether by blog or journal or other means. (Also, why would anyone want to read the messy emo explosion of words that would likely result? That's not attractive.)
Anyway, all this to say...I think I'm back.
I work in a job right now that I have a very love/hate relationship with. It's the greatest place I could dream up to work, and the environment is fun and wild and spontaneous and creative and I adore it. My coworkers are all the best kinds of crazy, and my boss is seriously incredible. However, large portions of my job involve numbers and money and figures and rules and regulations. Not this English lover's ideal. And lately I've realized how much I miss the world of language and literature and writing and debating and interpreting and theorizing and simply enjoying a work of art. (Side note: I read way too much goofy silly teen fiction. I think the library lady is really confused about my actual age.) But I miss academics. While I'm not itching to be back in the classroom, (on either side of it, actually) I AM itching to do something that I love. To exercise the part of my brain that God tweaked so that it produces a bit of a high when I even think about an uninterrupted afternoon with C.S. Lewis's works. The part that is about 2 seconds away from taking a day off work and paying a lot of money just go hear Lois Lowry for an hour. The part that inspired me to take Greek, and still remembers ridiculous amounts of French, and willingly subjected itself to hours and hours and hours in the 3rd floor of Jennings Hall discussing the use of capitalization in this poem or the absence of dynamic females in that novel. The part the gets a little bit giddy learning new words, and falls in love with a good novel in all of 2 minutes and then refuses to be separated, devoting continuous hours to it and basking in the feelings it produced when it is all too soon ended. (That's also the part of me that hasn't finished writing Thank You cards, so sorry about that. I'm working on it, I promise.)
So, consider this another new beginning in the blog titled All Things New.
Expect to hear from me more. Apparently, I need to write.
You may also have noticed that I've posted exactly twice in the past year. Needless to say, I've been a little bit busy doing things like getting married and stuff. But I've also been working, which involves staring at a computer screen from 8-5 every day, so making myself look at a computer when I get home hasn't been on the top of my to-do list. If I'm honest, though, there's more to my absence than the practical aforementioned reasons. There's been a whole host of internal processing that's just been too scrambled for words in the past year.
I was told at some point that it takes someone half as long as the time that they lived out of the country to re-adjust to being back "home". In other words, having lived in Africa for two years, it would take one year to feel "normal" again. And I found that to be a pretty conservative estimate. I'm really not here to talk about Malawi, as I know it's old news for most of you. But it's so real in my heart, and it took me a good two years to find closure and answers and simply be emotionally stable enough to let myself process the havoc that was wreaked by going from 4 years at Mississippi College to two years in Malawi to moving back into my parents' house in my hometown and entering into an inter-cultural mega-long-distance relationship. To be honest, I was a wreck. And I'm just starting to feel like I'm okay with my life again.
Writing and reading and language have always been an outlet for me. Sometimes they've been an escape. But they are always emotionally charged. I write with various combinations of logic and passion. I have never read literature without an emotional response to it. (Okay, don't tell Dr. Smith, but the closest thing to an exception would be what little I read of Shakespeare's histories. I'm sorry. I. Do. Not. Care.) In all seriousness, though, part of the reason I have been unable to write is that I have been unable to handle the emotions involved in letting myself process, whether by blog or journal or other means. (Also, why would anyone want to read the messy emo explosion of words that would likely result? That's not attractive.)
Anyway, all this to say...I think I'm back.
I work in a job right now that I have a very love/hate relationship with. It's the greatest place I could dream up to work, and the environment is fun and wild and spontaneous and creative and I adore it. My coworkers are all the best kinds of crazy, and my boss is seriously incredible. However, large portions of my job involve numbers and money and figures and rules and regulations. Not this English lover's ideal. And lately I've realized how much I miss the world of language and literature and writing and debating and interpreting and theorizing and simply enjoying a work of art. (Side note: I read way too much goofy silly teen fiction. I think the library lady is really confused about my actual age.) But I miss academics. While I'm not itching to be back in the classroom, (on either side of it, actually) I AM itching to do something that I love. To exercise the part of my brain that God tweaked so that it produces a bit of a high when I even think about an uninterrupted afternoon with C.S. Lewis's works. The part that is about 2 seconds away from taking a day off work and paying a lot of money just go hear Lois Lowry for an hour. The part that inspired me to take Greek, and still remembers ridiculous amounts of French, and willingly subjected itself to hours and hours and hours in the 3rd floor of Jennings Hall discussing the use of capitalization in this poem or the absence of dynamic females in that novel. The part the gets a little bit giddy learning new words, and falls in love with a good novel in all of 2 minutes and then refuses to be separated, devoting continuous hours to it and basking in the feelings it produced when it is all too soon ended. (That's also the part of me that hasn't finished writing Thank You cards, so sorry about that. I'm working on it, I promise.)
So, consider this another new beginning in the blog titled All Things New.
Expect to hear from me more. Apparently, I need to write.
Welcome back, dear friend! I always enjoy hearing your voice...in any form available.
ReplyDeleteI knew you wouldn't stay away from words for too long. Glad to read this today.
ReplyDelete