When I was in high school, I couldn't wait to get out of my home town. I had lived in the same house and the same city for my entire life, and all I wanted was to escape to someplace new. Not only that, but I had big dreams of moving after college to any state other than Michigan. Michigan was too boring, too rural. I wanted something fast-paced and exciting. I wanted New York City, the rush and bustle of thousands of people to cancel out the monotony of living on a country dirt road that maybe 20 people drive on a day. I wanted to be independent of my old way of living, to strike out on my own into a whole new world of possibilities and experiences.
And then I got to college and realized how much Michigan was a part of me. I remember the exact moment I was struck by this realization. I was walking back to my freshman dorm room from an English class, a class where my professor had talked about how so many young people feel as if they have to move away and leave everything they've ever known behind them. Independence from the family seems to be the new normal, when not too long ago it was perfectly fine to live your entire life in the same town, garnering deeper connections with the same community.
As I was walking back, pondering what this observation meant for my life, I looked up and saw how blue the sky was and felt the warmth of a mellow autumn day on my skin. The ground felt firm and familiar beneath my feet, and it suddenly hit me that Michigan was my home and always had been. I knew it for it's miles of farmland, it's northern wildernesses, it's striking fall colors, and it's sometimes unpredictable seasons. I suddenly felt a pride in the little three acre piece of land my family owned, for the apple and cherry tree in my backyard, for the four wooden posts that marked each corner of our property. In that moment, I knew that I never wanted to live anywhere else, that I would never feel the same sense of home and belonging in any other state, much less city, I had previously longed for. And with that decision, I didn't feel trapped or hesitantly resigned; I felt utter contentment.
I never questioned this commitment to my homeland until the end of my senior year in college. One weekend, I went to visit a friend who was living in Chicago for the semester. Instantly, I was struck by how comfortable she was living in a big city, how quickly she had found belonging and a way of life in a place that I felt pretty uncomfortable in. Not to say that I didn't enjoy my time there, but by the end of the weekend I felt very ready for some peace and quiet and less busyness.
After this experience, I began to feel self-conscious about my plans after college, which were going to work at a camp in the middle of rural Michigan half an hour from my house. Everyone else's plans sounded so exotic and interesting. Everyone else was going to grad school or moving out of the state or embarking on a journey of job interviews and applications that would take them God knows where. My own after college plans felt like I'd cheated. Not only was I getting a full-time job at the camp I had worked at for four years (meaning I barely had to fight for it), but I was also going to be working with people I already knew and enjoyed, all a few breezy minutes from home. It all felt too easy, to simple. It felt as if I was settling for something too familiar while everyone else pursued their better and more fascinating lives. I couldn't understand why I seemed to be the only one content to stay where I was, while everyone else seemed to be flying as high and far away as they could, leaving me behind.
It took me a time of contemplation and prayer before I was able to regain the contentment I had first felt my freshman year. What I realized was that the job I was going to was a job that I knew I would love and would make me happy. Not a lot of people get the opportunity to say that about their jobs. I also realized that I was going to a place with a community I was already a part of, which is an immense blessing. I didn't have to start from scratch and try to find a new place to fit in; I was already there. True, it might not be the most exciting or prestigious job, but it is at a place I love with people I love. I realized that I shouldn't feel ashamed of staying in one place while everyone else around me moved on. Home is where I am most content, and I would rather stay in Michigan and be happy than go somewhere else and be miserable.
I think the idea of home can sometimes get lost and underrated when we think of all of the places we haven't been to or all of the things we haven't done. And yes, sometimes we naturally get restless for something different. But for me, finding that place where I feel most at home is a priority. I am not seeking after fame or money or the highest level job; all I want is a good place to exercise my passions, coworkers I enjoy, and work I can grow in. Maybe I'm not meant to fly as high as others around me, and that's okay. I am perfectly content to keep my feet on the ground and keep looking up, because I know that the ground I stand on is solid. And I couldn't be happier.
