You see, since deciding to live a life in show business I have had to accept endings as a necessity. It's not always easy, but with each show I have had the opportunity to work on has come the end. Spending months with only a select group of people and then suddenly picking up my things and moving to the next activity. Is it at times difficult to swallow? Without question. But we move on. We must. For if we fight reality and try to stay behind we will only be confronted with worse pain later.
There is an acquaintance of mine in Stirling who has also kept a blog of her times here. I only bothered myself with reading her last post, as she is an emotionally driven person. There's nothing wrong with this, but it makes for quite plain reading. Maybe I'm just too critical. Her last post was one where she talked about the definition of home and how Scotland has become, in a large part, her home. For me Scotland isn't quite so. It has been more of an extended vacation. I love this country and the friends I have made during my time here, don't get me wrong. However, I look at home as more than a mountain's side or some rabbit and duck's playground. My home is located at 422 Gill Avenue. As unfortunate as this sounds (let's face it, Galion isn't the thriving metropolis I've always wished it would be. It's far too dry, dull, and conservative for my personal taste), it's where I grew up. It's where my siblings and I slid down slides with pieces of wax paper to make us go faster up until my mother rang a bell to let us know it was dinner time (No joke). It's where my brother Kaleb and I swatted hundreds of bumblebees with tennis rackets in our side yard until smashing a window to our basement. It's where I have taken the three loves of my life (Chloe, Doris, and Tilly) on countless walks around the block or the nearby YMCA only to pretend I didn't see them defecating on the grass to avoid picking it up (In my defense, it's so small. Who cares!). It's where I could walk or rollerblade to both my grandparents' houses whether to follow a trail of pennies to the Weibl side or to drink some soda at without having to ask parental permission at my other grandmother's side. It's home.
In three days I will be back home, though not for long. I can only take it in doses but am looking forward to the rejuvenation before heading off to the quaint town of Weston, Vermont to start summer work. I'm excited. I get to work with super amazing, talented people. CLICK HERE for an article about the show I'll be working on first.
All this talk of home is not to overshadow my travels abroad. It has been the single best decision of my life to do so. I got to escape the drain and jaded personalities of my Baldwin Wallace University colleagues for an entire semester (I love them all to death, but I needed to be away). But most importantly, I've gotten to learn. Not from a book, standardized testing, or by simply being told or instructed. I got to learn on my own. At my own pace and through a clear head not disturbed by the distractions of a phone, academic pressure, or feeling the need to always be on time and responsible. It's wonderful breaking those qualities I am grateful for, but I am also relieved to have ignored them for a couple of months. I took chances in Scotland that I've never allowed myself back home, and that has been the most honest and complete feeling. I hiked up Britain's tallest mountain with few mountain climbing skills and only the endurance gained from my daily runs. I wanted so badly to give up after hitting the snow towards the peak and I thought to myself that I would never be able to make it up. I was cold. I was alone, and no one would have known whether I made it to the top or not. It would have stuck with me forever though. So I continued to climb. I pushed my emotional and physical barriers to the side and kept hiking. Opening my eyes and mind to the rest of the world was also an important lesson for me to learn. I have said it before on this blog that coming from The United States, we're very lucky. Privileged isn't necessarily the word to cover all the people in the country. Lucky, I would argue, is.
After my Documentary exam tomorrow morning at 9AM (I haven't studied yet. That's what happens when exams last an entire month) I will officially be a senior in college. Wow. It still hasn't hit me. Only one year left to go until I'm thrown into the real world. Who knows where I'll end up or what I'll end up doing with my life, but I'm sure it is to be an adventure regardless. One more chapter of my life is over, and it's on to the next. While on that topic though, I'd love to say that this blog has me believing that I could write a book if I wanted to. Believe it or not, there's always a great deal more I could add to these posts in both detail and content that I haven't quite done. Not sure why I bother typing that. Maybe a inner part of me that argues if I put the idea out there it will stick with me and be more likely to happen.
Before ending I have to thank certain people. I won't do this in a list as to exclude anyone, but for every email, package, postcard, skype call, or comment on the blog I couldn't thank you enough. I have found each form of communication a great pleasure to consume and a convenient small piece of the United States, a country I'm excited to be returning to and to try to change for the better. While this may seem like the optimist's silly goal for life, I've been told over and over that while changing the world is frustrating, disappointing, and unlikely, what we can do is change our own corner of the world. It's that simple.
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| We are the change we seek. -Barack Obama |
