the gist of what he taught me in virginia

What kind of job could an unusually quiet person with moderately poor communication skills obtain? Wondering, wondering.

I spent this entire past week touring through various parts of Virginia and scouting out familiar faces--or faces my mother had made it a point to see and (re-)introduce me to. I sat listening to conversations about more people whose faces I probably should remember, and I lied several times about my plans for the future. Only once did I make my lie so obvious as to tell someone (you know who you are) my dreams of opening my own business in parachute repairs, of earning enough money in order to start a career in skydiving and of living this skydiving life until I die happily and satisfied. Someone suggested I move to Germany and become a pastry chef. Did this person know how talented I already am at baking rich and delicate European pastries? Who told my secret? Another series of lies I could tell in order to appear more interesting to people.

I would like to believe that those who have a compulsion toward lying about things they've done or will do (or know of), are doing so in order that they will appear more favorably before those to whom they lie. With the exception of the ridiculous lie named above, I would say that every time I spoke something that resembled the following sentence, "I don't know what I want to do after I graduate," I did so in order to put the conversation about my future on pause. I've wanted to stall my conversation about my future plans for a few more months until I words that seemed a little more practical could come out of my mouth. (Also, maybe I secretly delight in believing that my relatives and family friends think I'm one of the dullest people they know--who can barely come up with a reasonable subject for conversation. I hope this latter isn't the case and that it actually disappoints me to supress myself from expressing my true hopes and desires--no matter how impracticle they may be.).

And how would those conversations have flourished (or dwindled, depending upon the other interlocutor), had I spoken up about some of those unsaid dreams?... I want to learn how to speak from the living part of me. Is not the part of me that lives--where my dreams and true passions thrive--the part of me where the Holy Spirit resides? And by supressing those true passions, am I not--at least partially--stifling the life that Jesus breathes through me into others? .... Still, I'm not sure I even know these desires well enough to speak them out. If my dreams come from God, I want to trust that he will mature them and bring them out in my life...

Virginia was beautiful; my family and friends were beautiful. I had been asking God if he was trying to teach me something while out there; maybe this was the gist.