unstoppable.

I guess it's a natural, normal thing to feel claustrophobic. But to this degree? It's unreasonable. And I'm starting to worry it's unhealthy.

The more I think about myself (something I don't like to do often), the more I come to realise...that I was never intended to be still.

When I started college at SMU this past August, I was literally quaking with anticipation. I was ready to discover the big city, to get lost in the alleys and the airwaves, to stand on the wide street corners, to feel the traffic drift by. I was ready to be submerged in movement. My desire to be in motion was always conceptual to me; I had never put words to it, or identified it as a love of movement for the sake of motion. I just liked to be doing something with my time.

I have come to realise that I am completely, irrevocably, unfathomably in love with velocity.

It's been gnawing at me for the past few weeks. I have always been a competitive, high-octane person. I was always the first to bite off more than I could chew, then learn how to choke with grace. I never asked for help until I was drowning. It's in my nature to be go-go-going. And until now, I've always balanced it well. There was never a conflict of interests.

But lately, my ability to balance and my desire to move...well, they've been fighting like a married couple.

So much of what I want to do with my life revolves around my personal perspective, how I see the world. My only goal in life is to give of myself, and I don't find it unreasonable at all. My best guess as to why this is suddenly problematic is this:

Because my plans revolve around my perspective, I feel the need to broaden that perspective as much as I make possible. I want to expand it, modify it, supplement it. Travel anywhere, everywhere. Try everything. Meet everyone. Be everything. Be everyone.

Unfortunately, this impatience doesn't bode well for my relationships with people. My desire to continually uproot myself could be detrimental to my ability to connect with people on a deeper level; what's the point of getting involved and invested if you're just going to leave?

It's something I've been mentally chewing on for weeks.

And it's still just a half-masticated thought.

On the one hand, I am in love with movement. I don't care where I'm going, I just need to be moving. I adore walking, cycling, driving, riding buses, riding trains, flying planes. I adore feeling a sense of purpose, reaching a destination, revelling in the suspense of aimless adventure. All I need in life are some wheels, some feet, or some wings. On every level, I connect best with myself, and with God, when I am moving. It's not so much about getting from Point A to Point B; rather, it's about the line in between.

But on the other hand, I am in love with people. All people. I am in love with souls, and individual beauty. The stuff that can't be quantified or put into words. The invisible thread that weaves between us as we form new connections and strengthen old ones. I am intrigued by the thought of seven billion hearts, seven billion minds, seven billion souls. I wake up every morning and fall in love with humanity all over again. My heart breaks, and is healed, and breaks, and is healed, as God reminds me that we are not the sum of our mistakes or our flaws, but rather, the sum of everything it means to be created in His image. I am in love with the inherent value of Creation, and with what that value could be if we put it all together.

I worry that the two loves can't be balanced.

I want deep, personal connections with people. I want to know their stories, passions, hobbies, ideas, opinions, struggles, talents...EVERYTHING. I want to be reminded again and again that we all just want the same two things in life: to love and be loved. I want to be reminded that purity and innocence do still exist, and that courage and honour are not outdated concepts. I want to feel the vibrancy of friendship and affection, and the sincerity of truth and wisdom. I want to remember what it means to be human, and alive.

I just don't know if I can do that, if I live the selfish, ever-moving lifestyle I desperately crave. What good is it to meet the entire global population, but walk away just as alone as you were when you started? I am only human; I can't keep seven billion pen-pals. I can't even keep seven. How can you really connect with so many people on a meaningful level?

I feel like this is what God is challenging me to understand.

I live my life with an underlying sense of urgency. I take advantage of opportunities, I chase the things I am passionate about, and I don't abandon my dreams. I don't change who I am to fit in, I don't say what people want me to say, and I don't stand by and watch pain exist. I have a problem with being told what is and isn't possible.

That being said...I move too fast for myself sometimes. It's like I don't breathe enough. Like my lungs weren't made for so much corrosive living and breathing.

The water here tastes funny, and it takes me back to the dripping faucet in Ataros, the only source of water aside from the river. The grass is unnaturally green, and it takes me back to the English countryside, with its lonely trees and peaceful sheep. The air here is suffocating, and it takes me back to Chicago's open skyscraper maze. I've walked on grass, concrete, cobblestone, sand, dirt, glass, metal.

Cabo is Boston is Chicago is Dallas is Ataros is Bentonville is St. Louis is Leeds is Oxford is Cuautotola is York is London is ME.

I've seen disease, starvation, poverty, under-education, anger, hatred, violence, and loneliness. I've also seen patience, and kindness, and generosity, and sincerity, and truth, and light, and love.

She is you. You are me. I am him. He is her. We are ours.

Do you see and understand my dilemma? Have you ever been in the same place? Lost in transit, but somehow not in transit at all? Forced to reevaluate how fast you really want to be moving through life, and forced to decide where it is that you're going?

I am here, I know who I am, and I am ready! Come on world! Hit me with your best shot!

But no matter how big of a city I live in, my life can still easily feel like a fishbowl. I don't want to be here for four years. I don't want to be here for four DAYS. I want out. I feel like I'm clawing at the walls of my mind, trying to find a way to fling myself back into motion. From someone who's never once taken a physics class:

Everything retains a constant velocity (or a constant state of rest), unless and until it is acted upon by an external force. Newton's First Law of Motion. Inertia. An object in motion stays in motion. It takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place. Alice in Wonderland.

I am in uniform motion. I am acted upon by the societal collegiate requirement to "succeed." I am stuck. My momentum is significantly altered. Newton's Third Law of Motion. The forces of action and reaction are equal and opposite in direction. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. The Dark Knight.

I am small in the grand scheme of things. So when I get hit, I get hit hard. And it changes everything. My momentum changes completely, depending on if I'm impacted positively or negatively. Newton's Third Law of Motion. If you think you're too small to have an impact, try going to bed with a mosquito. Anita Roddick.

I don't know. I shouldn't be allowed a keyboard when I'm alone late at night. I can't seem to convey the depth of what I feel. The immersion in, and the distance from, humanity. The simultaneous push and pull of personal tidal waves. Does that sound stupid? I feel like it does. Most true inner feelings do.

I can't explain how big and small I feel. My lack of articulation upsets me. I wish I could pull out this piece of my mind and show you what it looks like; I imagine it's a very busy, constantly shifting piece of grey matter, with deep wrinkles from thoughts and memories carved into its surface. My blood must operate at a temperature of 250, because there's no way I'm not the most frictional person who ever existed. Cutting and wedging and shoving and side-stepping and sprinting and passing and changing lanes through life.

My even MORE long-term concern is that this desire to pack up and go at any moment will hurt my potential career and family life.

I've always known that I would work in a field of service to others, whether through a professional or social service job. But I never stopped to consider that to do what I'm planning on doing, I will have to commit to staying still and developing a reputation as someone people can trust. How will I be able to travel, and GO, if I have to settle, and STAY?

And for the first time in a long time, I've found myself wanting a family. A real family. A stable family. It's deeper than the desire to have people to take care of, or to have people who take care of me. It's much more of a desire to belong to something bigger than myself. To be taken from, day after day, yet never feel empty. This is why I love my Father so: because even when I feel like I've given more than I've got, I still feel fulfilled.

That's the beauty of the family I'll never have if I choose to live my life like a world tour. It's a depressing thought, but it's something I supposedly have time to figure out. I have so much potential, a huge gap between who I am and who I could be. If only I could find that magical path to enlightenment, that secret stairway to self-justification.

I can only solve so many problems from a 9-to-5 desk job. I can only learn so much from a handful of people. I can only grow so much from a pot on someone's windowsill.

And I can only live so much from the limitations of my mind.

xx m.