Walkabout, Part II

I am not aboriginal, nor am I Australian (as if the latter would give me some claim to use the terminology that has thus far shaped the way I've viewed my post-graduate life). The term is this blog's namesake:

GONE WALKABOUT.

walk·a·bout  (wôk'e-bout') noun.  

1. Australian A temporary return to traditional Aboriginal life, taken especially between periods of work or residence in modern society and usually involving a period of travel through the bush.

2.  Informal to be lost or misplaced

3.  Informal to lose one's concentration

 I borrow this term from a much admired professor who once spoke to the goodness of traveling alone for the sake of encountering yourself fully. How good to be misplaced from that which has surrounded me for so long. How good to lose concentration and be disoriented enough to see the world with new eyes. I can think of no such better term than going walkabout to describe my framework of thinking for this time in my life.

                                                                                                                                                                        

Four years of undergraduate education completed; diploma awarded and graduate study plans forming.

"A temporary return to [simple] life, taken especially between periods of work..."

Four years of living in, for all intents and purposes, an urban area; craving space and skies free of light-litter.

"... involving a period of travel..."

Four years of having much required of me; a soul seeking solitude. 

 "... through [untamed nature away from society]."

                                                                                                                                                                        

I began my walkabout this summer during my internship at Covenant Presbyterian Church, so my next major period of travel is what I consider part II of the journey (I don't know yet how many parts are involved). Tomorrow, I am moving to Maine. I'm not sure what city yet, which is stressful, but adds to the kind of quality of trip I described above; I'm very disoriented and very misplaced. Maine is perhaps not the bush, but it is certainly a place removed from the type of society I'm accustomed to and, with its sparse population and natural beauty, I suspect I will be able to find the solitude I desire with a good bit of ease. While in Maine, I'll be an Americorps member working to aid in the academic and social success of mainly Somali refugee students grades K-12 in the Lewiston public school system. I can hardly believe this is happening. I feel like I'm moving out of the country! 824 miles is pretty far away for a native North Carolinian who's never lived out of state.

so why am I blogging?

I view this as a sacred and personal time to keep close to the chest. It's time for me to connect with myself and with a God who I know is real, good, loving, and disorienting to try to understand. Aside from this initial entry, I'm going to keep this as more a log of what I'm doing and less a snap shot of what I'm thinking and processing. Of course I'll include some level of real talk, as my primary reason for writing is to allow loved ones far away to know the bush hasn't overtaken me which means sharing the goodness I find. Goodness is meant to be shared, though some things are meant to be kept sacred- just for me to hold in my heart.

I'll put pictures up here and try to do a week-by-week review of what's happening.

Here we go!

JB