Compass

Last semester I set a goal to partake in you more, to set aside time to do things on my own. In fact, I went as far as praying that I would learn how to have you without feeling alone. I didn’t realize that I would literally and figuratively run into concussion problems and be quarantined from the active world I once knew, occupying my days with more and more of you. This forced me to adopt you as a regular part of my life.

(I by no means think that I was injured in order to accomplish this goal, I just found the correlation and background interesting, especially because I have seen how this experience set the stage for my time abroad)

Before you made me uneasy, sort of like you were a cramp in my schedule.

Oddly enough, I now crave you; something I have never experienced before.

Of course, I am still an extroverted lover of people. In fact, I think overall this journey has actually made me MORE extroverted, given me a greater tendency to start up conversations with strangers and placed me in nonstop hours of communal experiences.

My times with others have come to feed me in a new and greater way, sort of as a fuel, as most extroverts see it.

Additionally, I am now fueled in an equal but different way by you.

Like I said, I crave you! I look forward to having you, try to make room for you on a daily basis, and am not afraid or made uncomfortable by your presence.

This is partly due to the fact that with you I am not required to live with regard for anyone else. It sounds relatively selfish, but I came out here with a list of things to accomplish, joys to have, and moments to make- some of which I have realized cannot be reached with company. Alone, I’m allowed to fly by the seat of my pants and if I want to sit, I can sit, if I want to get lost, I can get lost, if I want to walk fast or speak slowly, I can do it as I see fit. I need no rhyme or reason for what I’m doing, other than it is what feels right for the moment.

Another part of my desire for you can be attributed to the peace and empowerment I feel when all of my activities lie in my own hands. It’s a breath of fresh air in a hectic season of travel. It gives me time to reflect, talk to myself, and mull over the details of my life that I might brush over because of their “ordinary” appearance.

Above it all, I’m never truly alone.

I’m amazed at how often I run into a fellow American, student traveling abroad, or simply person trying to find the same metro as me. Our common ground is not always language, but whatever our shared experience may be allows us to divi up a point in our day.

Sometimes I find myself doing things more on my own than alone, which is often seen as interchangeable with you.

Doing stuff on my own usually gives me a good portion of true alone time and a decent amount of independent time with a stranger.

This week I walked Paris alone. I saw Notre Dame, enjoyed an apple on a bench, had a scuffle with a gypsy, and ended up at a Nia Movement class. This class was somewhere between free spirit movement and a sixth grade dance slumber party. Either way, I was on my own having alone time, but I was not necessarily alone.

I sat, crawled, kicked, and twirled through a room with fifteen other women, most of which I could not verbally communicate with as they were French-speaking, but I found that I felt accompanied by a group of friends for an hour of “releasing our inner awesome,” as the instructor put it.

I swam like a fish at one point. To a French song I knew nothing of.

 

However I decide to periodically punch my time card with you, whichever way I cash in my chips, I find it to be rewarding.

 

Maybe I should call you independent time,

Because I am finding that you leave me less and less alone each time.

 

Riley Makenna