So recently I've been settling into things here in Scranton, getting acclimated at work, starting to develop a normal routine of things around the house, and the like. I've also been creating some good "blog karma" by following some of my friends respective web-ventures as they embark on similar service experiences, or study abroad opportunities. As it just so happens, I read a very interesting post by my friend from school, Anna, about her time spent studying abroad in South Africa this semester. Anna's posts are typically packed with quick-witted little quips about her adventures within the program and the people she meets along the way. This post was markedly different from posts I had read in the past, most notably because it wasn't full of happy-go-lucky anecdotes or incredible pictures of mountains that you might liken to a work of artistic brilliance. Her post centered around her apprehension with accepting the less exciting parts of her journey in South Africa. She came to realize that in order to immerse yourself into another culture, you need to develop a sense of "normal" there - not that fun hiking trips and bungee jumping adventures aren't awesome, of course - but it's unrealistic to think that when spending an extended period of time in a new place, there won't be times when things slow down and you're just there, and that's OK.
I tell you this story because (and I'm not sure if it's in larger part due to my reflecting upon Anna's post) time in Scranton seems to be slowing down. Not literally, of course, I'm not talking about some Sci-fy time travel plot reminiscent of that awful J. Timberlake movie "In Time", but just that the weeks start to become more routine as we adjust to our lives here and get comfortable with the Scranton area. The real question then becomes, how do we address/view/understand this standardization of our weekly routines? Do we settle into the comfortable pattern we've developed and allow time to pass by without interruption? Or perhaps we actively work to disrupt this pattern, for fear of the dreaded monotony of "the work week". I think the answer is somewhere in between. Yes, we want to make the most of our time here in Scranton and the journey we're on as Jesuit Volunteers and there will definitely be times during this year when we do, see, and experience some incredible things. But that's no reason to frown upon the moments that aren't quite as awe-inspiringly eventful.
In fact, those exceptions might not define our experiences as much as we like to think they do. After all, there's an Aristotelian quote that comes to mind, "we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit." So are we boring people if our lives start to consist of repetitive routines of eat, work, sleep, repeat? I don't think so. I think the perceived monotony of routines is solely a product of our choice to see those experiences that way. Perhaps by simply framing the situation differently in our minds we can avoid the negative self-talk that occurs when we think of falling into routines in our lives. So yes, I am developing a routine here in Scranton, and yes, that routine does get repetitive at times, but I choose to frame that reality as a positive thing. I wouldn't be developing a routine here if this place wasn't becoming more comforting to me, if it wasn't becoming a place I can call home. I wouldn't be developing a routine here if I wasn't enjoying the company of my housemates, coworkers, and all of the people I've met on my journey thus far. And I certainly wouldn't be developing a routine here if I wasn't - in small ways - falling in love with Scranton and my life here. It's not to say that every moment of the journey has been (or will be) incredibly amazing/exciting/life-changing, but that I'm accepting of the way in which the journey has been unfolding, both the good times and the bad. So, no offense to Aristotle, but perhaps it's not what we repeatedly do that makes us who we are, but how we do what we do that defines us. So I'm striving to do my year of service with a smile on my face and love in my heart. Because if smiling and loving become indelible parts of who I am, I figure I can live with that.
All my love,
Tom
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