Introspection is Interesting

I want recognition.

I crave it. I want to be known and appreciated for my stupendous feats of derring-do. I want other people to notice me and know that I’m the best. At everything.

Unfortunately for me, it’s just not true. In fact, I’m not “the best” at anything except being Thomas Fraley, (I’m probably the best at that, for sure.) but in the world’s eyes, that’s not worth fawning over me about.

I think that’s what I secretly expect from people. I went halfway around the world to help with a church plant and experience a foreign culture for a half a year. Then when I come back, people don’t stop me on the street and say “Hey! Weren’t you that guy who went to Australia and learned all about it and now you’re back!?” That’s disappointing.
I think I got used to people giving me second glances after they heard me talk. I got used to being introduced to people as “the American” and getting instant “social status points” from it. The Aussies really don’t make a huge deal about foreigners; certainly not as much of a deal as Americans do, but it’s still a biggish deal, and it was nice to get instant acclaim by just existing.

Now, I’m common again. I’m a wiry white guy with a midwestern accent who plans on attending school in the fall. If I want any social credit at all, I have to earn it again. It’s hard.

I guess I expected the Aussies’ reaction to be just the tip of the iceberg. Deep inside, I think I expected my return to trigger a ticker-tape parade and a huge party and welcome-back calls from friends and acquaintances who were delighted that I returned unharmed.

Instead, I got, “How did you do last semester? Where are you going to school? Purdue?”
Thanks.
“No, actually I took a year off school and lived a dream that you’ll never experience because you’re too scared and stuck in your own ways to follow,” Thomas almost replied.
…But that’s not really the truth. The real reason I took off school was to mature. The adventure was just an amazing side effect. And people really do have obligations that keep them from traveling the world as much as they want.
… And then some of them really couldn’t care less about Australia. To them, traveling the world is like bird-watching is to me: not their thing.

I should respect that, but it’s hard not to let bitterness fester. People who I’ve seen at church every week for three months are coming up to me and saying, “Oh, Thomas! It’s been a while! So you’re back from school, then? Are you out early, or is this just a break?”
It’s all I can do to not say “Oh, well actually I’ve been here every single week for several months now. In fact, I’ve lead worship on stage four or five times. Have you been attending every week? Or just now that it’s Easter?”

But again, that would be bitterness talking.

…
The tone of this post is very dark, but when it comes right down to it, I’m content, if not completely happy. I’m at my grandparents’ house now to help out because Grandpa broke his collarbone. Until it heals enough for him to plant and mow, I’ll be here. It’s good for a change of pace, and it’s good for me to get away from the internet and my co-workers. I miss my brothers and Nadia a lot, but other than that, it should be doable. Even fun.

I love this place. It’s the only place that’s stayed the same my whole life. “Home” has moved… oh…. Nine times? This place is the same. It’s my retreat.

Maybe the next post won’t be so dark and broody. Maybe. No promises.

~TomBob