Rediscovering Society

Myself, Dustin, and Allison at Verona Restaurant in
Krakow, Poland.

Taking a break from revisiting my journal, I thought I'd update on what's going on in my head, today. (However, check back later today and in following days for the next week for the remainder of my journal articles).

My post from yesterday, which you can read here, was pumped out while I sat at my local Starbucks. Irrelevant in the bigger picture, but there's a method to my madness.

It feels weird to be back in my normal life here in Fredericton. It feels weird to wake up in the morning, late,  and spend the first part of my day lazing around. It felt weird going out to dinner with friends last night and even odd to be walking around downtown with my best friend tonight. My life here feels so insignificant compared to the life of the European Jews during WWII. My problems feel minimal in comparison.

I was only away for 10 days. And I only had 10 days to connect with the people that I did. But just 10 days made a huge difference. Both in my outlook on life, and in the way that I'm feeling now: in the connection back into my regular life. I'm finding it hard to carry on with my daily activities, and I'm feeling nervous about starting work again on Saturday. I am excited, don't get me wrong. But nervous. Unsure. Fearful, and at a loss of words.

Myself, in Old Town Warsaw.

I'm already struggling when people ask me how my trip was. I panic. Was it good? Sure it was. I met wonderful people, and we did have laughs: on the bus, at the bars, at dinner. And it was educational, sure. But how do I really explain it? I can't. "Good" doesn't do it justice. "Educational" is an understatement. How do I really explain how much love I have right now for all of humanity, for everyone I pass in the hallways and on the street, and how do I explain how I am seeing through the lens of my own life right now? How I view others, myself, and how I draw on history to live my life? I can't possibly. And how do I possibly explain the feelings I'm having that are directly related to the sites we visited, the basis of the trip I just completed? I can't. I can't even explain them to myself, in my head. So there's no way I can put these in words when you ask me how my trip was. It was all of these blog posts and so much more. So much that maybe no one will ever know. Maybe I won't even realize and recognize it.

I woke up last night from a bad dream. This was the first of my healing process. Recognizing what I saw, what I learned. And this blog, this particular post, and those to come - of my journal entries and my frustrations - are part of that process, as well. And I thank you for allowing this to be that outlet.

I am so thankful I have 59 other people that, in some way or other, feel the same as I do, and are therefore able to coach me, help me, and allow me to vent. I have always wanted to visit Auschwitz, and am so happy I did it in this learning environment, with others. I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't recommend it be done any other way.

But I just can't seem to "fit" back into society, just yet. My thoughts are running rapidly, and my mouth can't seem to place them, put them into words. No one understands. No one will. The impact this trip had on me, these people had on me. And we will never understand how they felt. The millions that can't tell their story like Pinchas and Faigie.

I just want to stand up and scream. Because you don't understand. And I need to learn to let myself reflect, to come to terms with what I saw, to trust in humanity again; to continue to love. But it's hard. I just need to come to terms with this myself, and then I should be fine. For now, though, I feel as if I have a screen in front of me. To say I had a great trip, I learned a lot, and yes you should apply next year. But that screen is starting to tear as I enter society, step outside my door, and face the tough questions of curious friends and family. Time heals all, though, right?

But, for now, I hope that you can continue to be patient with me, continue to read my posts, and understand my trip through these small glimpses, these history lessons, these questions that I still don't - and maybe never will - understand, but still search to answer.

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight" - Reggie White.