An Introvert’s Survival Guide to Spontaneous Transcontinental Relocation

Posted on May 9th, 2012

Back story: Nearly three years ago I unexpectedly moved from my home in middle-of-nowhere, Nebraska, and landed in a small town right in the middle of three big cities in New England. Here are a few things I would tell someone like myself if I had access to a DeLorean and a reliable source of plutonium…

1. The utter spontaneity of your move will turn out okay – but not at all like you expected.

So you decided to move over a period of a week and a half. So you intend to move in with someone you know only for six or eight months on your way to the next big thing. So the guy on the other end of the line at the moving company not-so-subtly insinuates you’ve lost your mind when you tell him you need a truck by the end of the month. So the economy sucks. So what?

Turns out…six or eight months have a way of turning into years, but that’s okay. You’ll find a job, even if it’s not your dream job, and you’ll survive, and if you let yourself, you’ll learn a lot about life. Better start putting down roots right away, though – you’ll be here longer than you think.

2. Prepare for culture shock.

Yes, you will think that if you’re going to be in the same country, culture shock will not be an issue. You will be wrong. The people in your new place are going to be ruder than the people at home. Or maybe they’ll be more deceptive. Or more saccharine. Or more competitive. Pick an adjective. SOMETHING about them will be way outside of your comfort zone. And the streets will be set up all weird, and the drivers will be terrible, and you’ll never be able to find things in the grocery store. That doesn’t mean your new place is bad, but it will definitely throw you for a loop for a while.

3. Now is the time to find a hobby.

I don’t care how much of an introvert you think you are; you WILL get lonely. Yes, you need to go out and meet people and all those things all the extraverts will tell you – but for the moments when that’s too exhausting, having something you enjoy working on will help.

Here’s a secret, though…it will help more if you can figure out a way that you can sometimes connect your hobby to other people. If you’re a writer, find a writing group. If you play the guitar or create songs, see if your city (or if it’s small enough, your whole state) has a songwriter’s association. If you’re an artist, rent some studio space next to other artists. If you happen to have kids, coach their sports team. Do things you enjoy that other people enjoy too. It will help you begin to build relationships.

4. Join a church.

Okay, so not everyone is particularly religious, but find an organization you can join. Whatever it is, actually make a commitment to it, rather than just shopping around or making an appearance once in a while. Find a way that you can serve that organization. Take on responsibility. This will plug you in faster than anything else.

Churches are ideal for this – church people are morally obligated to be nice to you, even if you’re geekier than they are. Of course, there is also the whole trying to figure out the meaning of life / getting along with God thing…which I would argue is more than worth your time in the first place. And who knows? You just might find something worth doing that is desperately needed and that only you can do.

5. Attend community events.

Go to the open mic night at the coffee shop downtown – even if you don’t feel comfortable playing and you don’t know anyone. Go every week. Faces will start to be familiar, which will help with the loneliness…and sooner or later, some extravert will decide they can’t stand not knowing your name. When the town puts up its Christmas lights, go wander around the holiday celebration. Just make sure you stop by to watch the fire jugglers. (What? Your small town doesn’t have fire dancers at Christmas? Lame.)

5. TV and movies and books are not evil, but use them sparingly.

Seriously. It’s totally fine to distract yourself with media, or consume media just because you enjoy it…but don’t let it consume you. You will never connect with any sort of community if you’re always sitting in front of a screen. Not to mention that it’s really unhealthy and a total waste of your one and only precious life.

6. For the love of God, talk to people. And smile while you’re doing it.

Okay, so small talk is awkward anywhere, even at church. And yes, the guy your dad’s age at the coffee shop who starts on Ayn Rand and moves on to politics, cocaine, the border patrol, finer nuances of Spanish en castellano, and his genetic disability which earned him the nickname “Frog” before offering to give you scuba diving lessons (while you furiously pretend you can’t hear him) probably IS hitting on you. But so long as he doesn’t look dangerous (and there are other people around), would it really hurt you to talk a little while? If nothing else, you’ll have a killer story later. (In the hilarious sense, not in the literal oh-my-gosh-the-man’s-dangerously-insane sense. Just use a little wisdom here.)

And for every creep who’s legitimately and inappropriately hitting on you, there’s probably AT LEAST three or four kindly older community members who just really like talking to people. OR, the person talking to you may be as lonely as you are. Talk back to them…it’s not only the right thing to do, but it actually CAN be fun. Even if it’s awkward sometimes.

7. It WILL get better.

It takes a while for anyone to settle in to a new place after they move – especially an introvert. My pastor back in Nebraska told me right before I left that it had taken him and his wife two years to feel like they were starting to make a home after they moved. I found that to be pretty accurate…after two years, acquaintances start to become friends and strange places start to feel a little more like home. There will probably be times when you feel like you’ll never fit in and never have a reason to leave your apartment again – but it will get better. Just give it a little time.

What do you think? Any ideas to add for the suddenly dislocated introvert?

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“But godliness with contentment is great gain…”

Posted on April 15th, 2012

Life’s in the little things, isn’t it?

It’s not the car you drive, or the house you live in. It’s not the killer job or the city or the resume or the credit card offers in the junk mail sitting next to the shredder. It’s not the insurance policy or the retirement fund or the (ideally in the black) bank account. It’s not the hope of becoming a rockstar or a politician or an astronaut or another generic millionaire in a suit. It’s not the dream to travel to Paris, or Beijing, or Fiji, or the other side of the moon.

It’s not even the desire to catch the eye of that one attractive person you’ve got on your mind – who may, after all, never spare a moment’s thought for you in return.

But it IS the dust bunnies you must sweep from your floor, and the neon green stripes on your tennis shoes. It’s the smell of lemon Pine Sol on a Saturday morning or homemade pizza on a Sunday afternoon. It’s the feel of wind on your face and the call of the crows or seagulls when you run past the tall trees or down the beach. It’s the guitar strings and the piano keys under your fingertips. It’s sitting with the words of the wise and realizing that you don’t know all that much, really, and that you have nearly as much to learn as the child born yesterday. It’s the voice of your friend or your father or your young nephew on the phone. It’s the sun setting over the water and the rain pouring down outside. It’s a cup of coffee in the morning and the sound of your own heartbeat when you fall asleep at night.

It’s the beauty and wonder of the God-made-man who gave everything for love of you.

The past is only accessible for you through your memory – which studies show is not actually all that reliable anyway. The future you hope for might never come. Likewise with the future you dread. Your aspirations and intentions count – they keep you going and say a great deal about what sort of person you are – but what you really have, ALL you really have, is this present moment in which you are alive and the hope that there may be more. Take a breath; look around you. This is your LIFE.

And so most of the things we think we need to be happy are entirely unnecessary. More money won’t make you happy. Neither will a better job. If you’re lonely now (and you probably are – most of us are at least some of the time), then tying the knot with that person you’re crazy about won’t fix it, though it may help. The new clothes and exercise equipment and more powerfully whitening forms of toothpaste are only trappings of the fact that you are alive.

It’s one life you have, and it will end any time now. Enjoy it now, no matter your circumstances. Be happy now, without waiting for the next big thing that may never come. Take a breath now, and relish the feel of the air going in and out of your lungs. You are alive.

 

…But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

 But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. In the sight of God, who gives life to everything, and of Christ Jesus, who while testifying before Pontius Pilate made the good confession, I charge you to keep this command without spot or blame until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, which God will bring about in his own time—God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor and might forever. Amen. 

–1 Timothy 6:6-16

 

Grace and peace, friends.

~V

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“Not dead yet…I’m getting better!” (Death, part II)

Posted on February 17th, 2012

So, as promised, here’s a continuation of my thoughts on mortality.

I’ve already said I think that death is both important to think about and dangerous if you fixate on it too much. (See Part I here.) The main reason death should not be ignored is that what you think about death makes a huge difference in how you live. Most people pretend that they are immortal. It makes it easier to feel in control of their lives. (A dear friend of mine in New Zealand writes eloquently on it here.)

But here’s the thing: this illusion of control is just that – an illusion. Whether you like it or not, and whether you feel strong right now or not, and whether you have faith in science or progress or modern medicine, the mortality rate on this sorrowful planet is 100%. Sooner or later, you WILL die, whether you like it or not. And no one ever promised you 80 or 90 years.

Maybe I just see it more because of the clinic where I work – but people of all ages are dropping like flies all around me. One thirty something I knew died last year when he choked on his own vomit in his sleep. One 19 year old I was aware of got stabbed in the heart in a fight on the street, and another hanged himself. A couple of people I’ve known have literally drunk themselves to death within the last year. What’s to stop your car from giving out on your way home tonight? What’s to stop you from choking to death on a blueberry or a baked bean at supper tomorrow? What’s to stop you from being run over in the crosswalk in front of the coffee shop – like a little old lady in small town Rhode Island was a couple of years ago? Only God – if, as I think, He’s really in control of the universe. And sooner or later, He won’t stop it from happening.

I think about this all the time…most of my family are significantly older than I am. So over the last year, I’ve thought about death just about every time I’ve talked to my mom or dad – it could be the last time I’ll get to. I think about it when I spend a Saturday evening with my sister or go out to dinner with my brother. I think about it when I go back home and hug my friends. I think about it so much because I want to appreciate them – in spite of their flaws and their weaknesses, they are beautiful people, and I love them more when I don’t take their presence for granted.

And I think about it for myself. Am I ready for death? Am I ready to stand before the Creator of the universe and give an account for the things that I’ve done? I’m no perfect person. I’m really much less “good” than probably most people think I am. There is darkness, and selfishness, and sin deeply rooted in my nature…and I have no hope for life after death apart from Christ. I think about death because I need him to live now, and to live ever.

And I think about it because I want my life to matter. If I think I have all the time in the world, I’ll fritter my time away on facebook or google. I’ll watch movies and tv shows and always think I’ll do something that matters later. I’ll give my money or give my time or create something beautiful “some day.”

But some day may never come. If I have the chance, it’s now. The chance to do something worth while may not be there tomorrow.

Carpe diem, right?

Aaaand we’ll end another really loooong post here. Sometime I may actually let you guys know what things I *have* been spending my time on…besides facebook and cracked.com articles.

Peace.

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“I don’t want to follow death and all of his friends…” (Death, part I)

Posted on December 13th, 2011

So three months ago I said I’d type up a post dealing with some of my musings on the nature of death.  I, like Aslan, call all times soon.  Here goes…

So I’ve spent a LOT of time over the last year or two thinking about death. Maybe it’s because my sweet little grandma died a little more than two years ago. Maybe it’s because I got into a car wreck that should have been awful, and amazingly, left me only with stiff muscles and a scratched arm earlier this year. Maybe it was reading some random article on Cracked about dangerous animals and suddenly realizing that I sat on a bench within five feet of one of these a few years ago, which could pretty easily have killed me if it wanted and was probably a terrible idea at the time. Maybe it’s just because my mind works in large themes over the course of months or years, and death drew the lucky number. At any rate, it’s been right at the forefront of my thoughts for months.

I can hardly claim to have a definitive philosophy or theology on the meaning of death (or the meaning of life), but I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1.  Death is important to think about.

No brainer, right? But most people ignore this, probably in the interest of defending their own sanity. Death levels everything that we spend our lives chasing after, and if there is nothing beyond the grave, there really is nothing ultimately to be hoped for. No matter how awesome my life is, if I marry a millionaire or write ten best-selling novels or become a rock star or the President or Mother Theresa’s young American cousin, death is coming, and if it’s the end of things, then I have no hope and nothing to be joyful about. Ignoring this fact will only cause me to waste my life.

2. Death can be dangerous to think about.

Most people think too little about death…but a few think too much. Thinking about mortality has also required me to think about how we think about mortality. If we spend too much time thinking about death, if we fixate on it, we all too easily can become fearful or depressed.  And get this: thinking about death too much can also cause us to waste our lives, if not cut them short entirely.

There was a kid at my clinic who committed suicide last week. He was a relatively normal young man – only 19 years old – but somehow, something about his life overwhelmed him. There was another, an older man, who we sent to the hospital today because he wants to die. He handed me an ugly looking knife before he left. I’ve felt like that before – allowing yourself to fixate on death can itself be deadly.

3. What you think about death has a lot to do with what you think about life.

I had some really awesome conversations a couple of months ago with my dad and with one or two of my closest friends.  A couple of times I was feeling pretty overwhelmed, and their perspectives were extremely valuable. But my dad was the one with the most helpful comment, which ran something along these lines: “Well, if you fear death, think about the beginning. Where did you come from? Where did the world come from? Does it make sense that death is the end of your existence?” My answer to that has to be no, because of what I believe about the rest of the universe. You can look here for more details.

I’ll cut this short here to prevent this from becoming too massive of a post.  Maybe in another month or two I’ll add to it.  :-)

 

**Update: See Part II here.

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Long-Anticipated (or Unanticipated) Updates

Posted on September 17th, 2011

‘Allo, friends.  Look like this has turned into one of those every-couple-of-months blogs.  Better find a feed reader and subscribe if you ever want to hear from me again, probably.  :-)

But life is to be lived, and not merely documented, and that’s what I’ve been doing.

So it turns out that the things that I’m excited about and that I’ve been working on take time to be ready to be shared.  A lot of time.  And a LOT more experience than I have under my belt.  So for a little while, at least, this website will have to be a random place where I occasionally post what I’m thinking about and / or doing, rather than a playground for what I’m creating.  I’ve got more writing and recording and recruiting and producing and equipment upgrading and copyrighting to take care of before we’re ready for that.  But you’re a smart kid – you already figured that out.

Oh, and I need to get that silly piano in my kitchen tuned.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying life in a small New England town – for the most part.  The weed pollen is kicking my rear end here lately….and so are a few other things.  But my small town is right on the cusp of what is by far the most beautiful season in this part of the country.  I always think that fall here looks like Rivendell.

I’ve spent a lot of time here lately reading – and thinking.  For literature, I’ve spent a lot of time revisiting Ayn Rand (The Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged, We The Living) and a little time on Melville (Moby-Dick, of course…probably my favorite classic ever).

For deep thoughts, I find myself mulling over death and the meaning of life.  I’ll post more in-depth about that soon, I think.  Honestly, for the life of me I’ve NEVER been able to understand why most people spend most of their lives ignoring the fact of their own mortality.  It’s like we’re all on a stage (Shakespeare, anyone?) surrounded by cardboard cutout scenery….only most people actually make themselves believe that the cottages and houses are real and that there isn’t darkness and a probably painful fall off the edge behind them.  I can’t say just how many times I’ve been in crowds of people and wanted to either shake them or preach at them….and say, come on, man, wake up!  The stuff we spend most of our time on doesn’t matter – or rather, it only matters to the same extent that it serves the proper purpose for our existence on earth.

When it serves that proper purpose, then suddenly everything – even cardboard cutout trees and houses – matters.

Anyway. There’s New England in a nutshell for you.  And now it’s about time to make some terribly important and thoroughly delicious pumpkin-apple soup….and possibly some bread.  Peace.

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The Unanticipated

Posted on July 23rd, 2011

I’ve been thinking lately about how many things come up in life that you just don’t see coming…even though you probably should. I’ve run up against a lot of them the last couple of years, and especially during the last couple of months. Believe me when I say that my life has taken on shapes and colors and flavors that this little country girl didn’t expect.

Here are a few of the most recent ones:

–Dentist appointments in Boston (surprising mostly because of the Boston part…given the fact that I hail from small town Nebraska where the dentist is also the mayor.)

–Feeling overheated in 80 or 90 degree weather. New England has made me a wimp.

–Friendships with 40 year old divorcees and 70 year old Jewish men and 60′s-ish Catholic nuns and a whole host of other people. I think I could actually say that I look at my coworkers right now mostly as friends, rather than just coworkers. Funny how a small office in a crazy (literally) atmosphere will do that for you.

–Hordes of teenagers and random men and a few non-overwhelming friends who are eager to learn something about music…and for some reason, look at me as a teacher. I’ve had everything from “I could play the piano in church sometime…I know half of Fur Elise” to “Come over for dinner at my place tonight and help me figure out text messaging on my phone and how to buy chord books off Amazon.”

–Related to the aforementioned music, the necessity to figure out a way to weed through all the hopefuls with stars in their eyes and encourage them to learn while still preserving my free time and my sanity. Oh man…I wish I could, but there’s just no way I can meet individually with every person who has approached me lately.

–A core group of women at church on the music team who, although as eager to do well as the rest of them, are also eager to help me and protect me from being overwhelmed with the amount of work I could, but shouldn’t, put into this. I have been *seriously* blessed by these girls. They’ve done everything from praying to fixing me dinner to sitting and talking with me for hours about how to maintain my composure and my boundaries to running interference for me when they see a line forming after church and my eyes getting just a little wild.

 

I dunno.  All of the things I’ve been doing lately have been incredibly stretching…and probably good for me. But they’ve been a little on the crazy side, too. During weeks like this one I’m grateful for a few close friends and family who pull me back to earth when things take me by surprise.

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Elegy

Posted on June 7th, 2011

(Almost two years late, and neither earthy nor elegant words could suffice. Alas…)

 

You were a clattering kitchen of redolent breads and wines sparkling.

Now you lie dormant, your instruments broken and crumbling.

Bright were your lanterns. Your ovens were hot with the fires swift burning.

All at the table. Both strangers and friends welcomed warmly.

All your most natural days were filled with every small child chattering.

Your sudden downfall left cookies and dominoes scattering.

There your young women sat, giggling voices but ears closely listening.

There a young man with his future bride, all eyes to glistening.

You had known heartache. A life of hard labor, of loss and betrayal.

Still you were faithful, and on your lips ever a smile.

None understood well how you could face poverty, fear and death following,

Sicknesses swallowing your health, yet you’d still comfort us.

We were not ready to watch you embark on that last bitter journey,

Most bitter for us, but for you a loved homeland was beckoning.

Now set your table. Array all your plates. Put your pies in the oven.

And hang your lamp high in the doorway to light our returning.

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Confessions of a Not-So-Secret Perfectionist

Posted on June 4th, 2011

Sometimes, I think of things that are totally worth doing, and think about how I can’t do them justice, and I freeze.  I get overwhelmed with the size of the task that I want – I WANT – to set my hand to.  I get too tired.  And then I turn around and go home.  I walk into my apartment and make myself a cup of tea and read a book.  Or I catch up with a few people over random unimportant things on facebook.  Or I go to bed.

Perfection (or at least the pursuit of it) really does paralyze you, at least sometimes.

I’m not too sure why I’m so prone to that particular trap.  Maybe it’s because for as long as I can remember, I’ve been pretty good at most things I set my hand to.  (At least the ones that had something to do with ideas – put a bat or any sort of ball in my hands and the results are, frankly, laughable.)  ”Success” at so many things has always come so easily to me….so when I’m faced with being out of my depth, I get overwhelmed.

It’s been happening more and more frequently as of lately.  I have things I’m working on.  I’m learning and improving with every day I’m given.  But I can see so many places where my knowledge is inadequate or my physical capacity is overtaxed.  Here’s the thing:  I will never have the sheer physical ability to perfectly pull off every song or poem or story I have in my head.  I can work on them.  I can try to make them good.  But I can’t make them perfect.

And sometimes, life just happens.  Things get in the way of the things I want to do.  I spent a month this spring being randomly sick in small, unimportant, not-life-threatening-but-totally-annoying ways.  My car decided on Arbor Day that the most appropriate way to celebrate would be to commit suicide by having stabilizer bars go bad and tossing me into the side of a tree.  I’ve spent the last month of my life car shopping and registering and state emissions testing….and trying to loosen up stiff muscles and regain my equilibrium.

And then I look at things like this website, decide I’m too tired, and read Ender’s Game instead.  True story.

I was talking to a friend of mine from church a week or so ago.  I’ve started giving her guitar lessons while we’re working on pulling our church’s music team back together while half our regular musicians move to places like L.A. and Omaha, Nebraska.  (Lessons?  Holy smokes, am I really qualified for that?  I feel like I’ve barely started to learn myself!)  We were talking about the music for church, and she said, “V, I don’t think you’re very comfortable with adequacy.  You give us lots of disclaimers on your abilities, but we think you’re knowledgeable enough for the task.  It’s not perfect.  But it’s adequate.”  I’ve been mulling the notion over ever since.

I want things to be perfect.  I want to be competent at the things I set my hand to, and I want the results to come out well…for my own sake, certainly, but also for the sake of the people being served by the work and for the sake of the work itself.  Arte por el arte…art done well for art’s sake, and not for some utilitarian purpose.  And in situations where I don’t think I can pull something off perfectly, I’m honestly more comfortable not pulling it off at all.

But all the things I have I’ve been given, both in terms of physical objects and abilities.  My body and my mind are both gifts from God.  And He doesn’t need me to be perfect to accomplish His purposes.  He’s God.  He can do whatever He wants…even through little, inadequate, imperfect me.

So it’s my joy, my responsibility, and my lot to simply press forward.  To do the best I can and trust God with the results.  To be, simply and humbly, ME – even if I can think of twenty people (or a hundred people) who are more qualified than I am for the tasks I’ve been given.

So here’s this site.  I can write things.  And there’s that church.  I can lead a music team.  And there are those songs in my head.  I can write them, and record them, and mix them, and maybe…just MAYBE…eventually put them up here.

Wait long enough and you’ll see it happen.  But solely by the grace of God.  Deo volente.

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Awesome Quote of the Evening…

Posted on April 14th, 2011

“I hope Bob Dylan and Captain Jack Sparrow ride into your dream together on a stegosaurus.”

-my friend C. Love that girl.

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Happenings

Posted on April 8th, 2011

I have had. a. CRAZY. couple of weeks.

Here, in list form, your news brief on the happenings of V.P. Leonard, straight from the source.

…travelling to New York City to hang out with awesome people.  Met up with C, N, D, RC, S, RP and spent a whole Saturday wandering around on concrete.  I was terribly sore at the end of the day, but it was worth it.

 

 

 

 

…..thinking / praying / mourning for a dear friend who lost her dad suddenly.  And talking with her as well as our friends about some pretty heavy things.

 

…..playing music more or less CONSTANTLY.  Mostly guitar.  My church has some changes coming up on the worship team soon, and they’ve asked me to step up and help facilitate things as the guy who leads it now moves across the country.  I’ll be organizing the music sets for the forseeable future as well as leading practices and playing the guitar….probably kind of a lot.  I’m having a blast doing it, even though I’m sure it will keep me on my toes.  And there’s nothing like potential public humiliation to keep you practicing!

 

…..along with playing, writing and recording a little music of my own.  That’s something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time but for some reason never really thought I could.  Well, no more.  I am having a blast with this as well.

 

…..being sick.  Very sick.  I don’t think we’ll say any more about that.

 

…..not writing very much, since I’ve been so busy with other things.  But that’s on my agenda soon as well.  Look for more installments of my story soon!  And possibly some poetry as well.  We’ll see what happens.

 

…..hanging out at community open mic nights at the local coffee house.  In fact, that’s where I am now – gotta go!

 

~V, over and out.

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