in the lunch room

Awkwardly I shuffle forward, looking for a kind eye, a welcome smile, and empty seat. In a moment, I find myself swaying what could be and what was. Every year the same ritual, the same awkward shuffle forward and suspenseful sway between reality and potential; what is and what could be. After what would seem like eternity, though I'm sure it wasn't more than a minute or two, if that, I spot one or two equally lonely and awkward-looking souls, and gravitate. There is safety in numbers-even awkward ones.

Growing up I moved a lot. In fact, after the ripe old age of 5, the longest I stayed in any one home was 16 months. Every year when school began it was the same routine. New clothes, new shoes, new supplies, the coolest lunch accessories known to man (what was your favorite lunch box during elementary school?), and a new school.

Each time I took in that first look over of the lunch room I remember feeling paralyzed, wishing with the strongest hope a child has, that I could be back at school A, 5, or P8. I no doubt had selective memory on those terrifying days, romanticizing the past "walks of the unknown" where everyone stares at the new girl and wonders what horror befell her to give her such a walk? Was a bear? A car accident? Did she fall off a roof? Convincing myself that last year was easier, I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear, to go back and never return to this moment... this day... this setting. But a rescuer never came. At least not like I was hoping, swooping me up and carrying me off. So there at the front of the lunch room I remained until, one awkward step after another, I inched forward and found the awkward misfits table, sat down, ate my fruit roll up,(favorite flavor, anyone?) and met the few that would be my life for the next nine months.

Life may not be about lunch rooms, new sneakers, and juice boxes anymore, but it is full of its own version of awkward, difficult, tension-filled moments where I am compelled and even forced to choose between what is and what may be; reality as I know it and an unknown potential resting on the horizon. No doubt, I've encountered such moments before. Graduating college. Accepting a job in New Hampshire. Leaving TC for GR without a job or a place to live and having no money, among many others, but none seem as intense as what I find myself in the midst of right now. I don't know what has merit and what doesn't. I don't know what the next turn holds. I don't know so many things right now. Including where I fit or what my niche is. Who are my friends? My family? Who can I trust? Who should I be avoiding? What lies am I holding onto that need to be laid to rest? What truths do I need to stand up for with a bit more passion? Who, that is speaking into my life, is well-meaning but mislead? Who is "spot on?"

Will I move forward into the awkward unknown, shuffling my new sneakers towards unrealized new things? Or will I stand frozen in the tension, awaiting my tardy rescuer, ready to run the other way?

I'm ready to run.

But I'm hoping I'm strong enough to stay put, inching forward.