I am because we are.

Today finds me in northern Indiana, South Bend, to be exact, visiting dear friends from college. I've been here for the weekend, hanging out, visiting their lovely church, rehashing old memories and making new ones. Yesterday afternoon, a visit with my fellow Ugandan SALTer involved ordering our lunch in Spanish, an amazing play at Goshen College, and an evening of good coffee and catching up. Today, another dear friend and I will make a not entirely expected adventure into Chicago; I'll sleep in Michigan tonight.
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There have been some to question why I would take this journey out to flat "Michiana," why I'd spend the money -- and the time -- on Amtrak tickets, and especially, why I'd do it now, when the countdown to departure is mostly creating anxiety. Even my own heart has at times asked these questions, though mostly in the days before I came, and the sleepless hours of steady chugging and stoner seatmates.
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It took only a few hours here (well, a few conscious ones, at least) to know within myself how right this choice was. Travelling insomnia and ticket prices are nothing compared to the sweet comfort of conversing with a dear friend face to face. Emails are good, and letters are like gold, but still, how delightful to lay on a couch and let our hearts flow once again together. We talk about men and life and school and children and houses and future and past and questions and everything that matters, as well as much that may not. And somehow, in those moments of being together, we make more sense of who we are: and it is good, tov, the whispered blessing of a long-forgotten creator. This trip has been, is continuing to be, all about relationships, but also my own soul.

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You may have noticed the change to my blog title this morning. I've been contemplating the need for a new title for some time now, a natural part of the transition process. This morning, I realised what it must be. Ubuntu. I first encountered the term, as far as I remember, in readings borrowed from my friends' first year reader. A South African concept, presented often by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, it reframes human identity. Translated, or at least, paraphrased, it means, "I am because we are." My being is embodied, entwined, in your being, in our being together and relating. It is the cornerstone of a communal culture, the instinctual philosophy of people born to think of family, tribe, clan, and kingdom more than self. And these days, it is the beat of my own heart as well.

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These months in the US have been all about relationships: family, friends, new acquaintances. Coming to terms with who I am and how I've changed, mostly seen through the mirror of others' eyes. In college, community was an over-used buzzword; they tried too hard to teach us how to live together. These days, I know it's value on a deeper level: in the place where my heart and mind reach out for meaning, and my self is made manifest mostly when I am with those I hold dear. These bonds have formed me, transformed me, stretched and challenged me; these strange bridges of trust and honesty, love and challenge, painfully difficult in all their beauty. And, despite the frustration of physical separation, they will continue to.