Nostalgia

So I entered the world of Facebook over the weekend.

Its been interesting...I have been made a Zombie by a friend from middle school...I have poked friends that I can poke in real life on a regular basis...who knew that all this and more was just waiting on the interweb...my wife laughs at me, and then performs the obligatory eye-roll-groan and tells me I'd better not spend too much time on this new distraction. As if I spend too much time on this poor blog of mine...

There was a moment, when I was asking everyone I found to confirm me as their friend, that it occurred to me how sad it would be if I was rejected. Who gets rejected by even an acquaintance when they request to be confirmed as your friend on something as trivial as Facebook? This thought urged on a real, albeit momentary, panic...

"I will be the first person everyone denies knowing. My friends have 500 friends...but I am not one of them...*You've been confirmed as X's friend*...YES!!! I have friends!!! I am officially cool--I bet other people had to wait for hours, even days, for their friends to confirm them, but my friends, they accept me instantly, even the ones that haven't seen or talked to me in 7 years...I'm accepted, important...cool."

I need more sleep, obviously.

The other odd thing I experienced was a major wave of nostalgia. I suppose its to be expected...in the last 24 hours I got back in touch, so to speak, with people that knew me when I was 11. They knew me before I was a teenager. I am now 25, have been married for 4 years, and have a son that is about to turn 3. Not only have they known me since before life began, somehow almost none of those people remain near to me...which is, honestly, a difficult thing. One of the greatest blessings of marrying the love of my life is that she "knew me back when..." She remains one of the few touchstones I have to 18 years of life that hold no permanence in this world.

This sounds rather dramatic. Sorry...a friend just gave me a Michael Buble album, with the song "Home" on it...and its probably not helping me avoid the dramatic presently.

So, I was reflecting on my lack of having a home, and started wanting to travel. Which struck me as the oddest of all possible desires when one is wishing for a non-existant home...until it occured to me that this has always been my response when this desire rears up inside me. And I think that the reason this is so has something to do with the ideas Chesterton mentioned in Orthodoxy; the concept of a familiar adventure, the practical romance. See Chesterton identified the need within us to be at once at home and yet to feel the thrill of adventure. Well for me, I think in some ways, the only way I feel at home is when I am moving, traveling, or am somewhere else waiting to get to where I am going. In fact, once I leave, I can begin to miss the place I was, or await the arrival at where I am going...which is as close to being at home as I get, in some ways.

So...now I have to figure out how to travel...preferably to somewhere with good friends...