Combatting homesickness...

Another day has passed in Melbourne. Not much to report… though, I will admit, I have been extremely homesick.

The funny thing about being homesick is that I never wanted to admit to it. I always felt like I was far too adventurous to be homesick to the point of a stomachache, and like only the weak suffered from being homesick. After all, I’ve braved weeks at summer camp, a month in France, and over a year at college without any trouble. Why would I get homesick? I felt pathetic. And then I talked to my mother, which is, though I sometimes hate to admit it, one thing that always makes me feel better.

The way she put it, homesickness isn’t anything to be ashamed of. It just happens. We grow so attached to the people and places and things in our everyday lives that we are positively ill without them. I think my own tummy ailments are a combination of homesickness and something else (I’ll spare you the details), but I know that my longing for home is a contributing factor. Homesickness is really, really hard.

Needless to say, my mother made me feel a little better, but I still was tearful and unhappy and struggling. Margaret, then, had the brilliant idea of getting hold of Kaleb.

For those of you that don’t actually know me, Kaleb is my boyfriend. Again, I’ll spare you the details, but Kaleb is the single best thing that has ever happened to me and I love him more than I can say. As a result, I think he is the reason I’m more homesick than I ever have been before. He was online, and we talked for more than two hours. As a result, I feel much, much better, and I think my stomach is on the mend.

However, it did make me think. I’m going to be candid: at one (okay, more than one) point I was so upset that I was curled up on my bed in tears, paralyzed by my longing for home and for Kaleb. My mother suggested that I find a pastor or a nurse, someone who could help me. For a while (and I still haven’t ruled out the idea, should it become necessary), I thought about finding a church.

I do not consider myself a Christian, which is an explanation too long for this post. However, I still wanted to see a pastor. I almost felt lonesome for the love and support a pastor can provide, just as they always did in my childhood and high school years. I knew that I could cry and cry and cry and pour out every little thought in my mind and a pastor (for the record, my mother is a pastor) would listen and care for me. I think Kaleb and my mom alleviated that need, but I’ll keep it in mind (Thanks, guys. I love you both so much).

Maybe homesickness can apply to more than just distance and time. Maybe it can be applied to a lifestyle now gone. I do not plan to revert to Christianity in the near future, but I still think of pastors as those who can give me the love and support I needed while I feel so low. Does this apply to all spiritual leaders? People must love rabbis, imams, bodhisattvas, and the like just as much as I loved Pastor John and Pastor Paul as a child. Perhaps the Parliament will surround me with the loving, supportive people who are so needed by bruised souls and heal me. Cross your fingers for me. Or, if you wish, pray.

Thanks for reading. Parliament starts tomorrow!

Love, Maggie