Where in the World Am I?

I found myself in California. And Arizona. And a lot of other states. Europe even.

I know there are legends of cultures who send out their adolescent boys into the wilderness to survive on their own for a time before they officially enter adulthood. Oughta be a requirement for everyone. And I speak from personal experience.

In the summer just before college, when I was just 17, I went on a three-month long missions trip playing concerts every single night across the U.S and Europe. From the moment I stepped on the plane leaving home, I knew a radical transformation was beginning.

The people I was with had no idea who my family was or my upbringing. I was not “So-and-so’s son, or brother, or cousin.” I was an individual with permission to make my own decisions, have my own opinions, make my own mistakes, and choose my own path. I didn’t have to be defined by the people around me, but began to create the identity that would become Me.

We need both roots and wings to be fully ourselves. I was leaving my roots—the only small existence I had ever known—to take wing and see the world. It took a lot more years to come into my own, but that summer was a milestone.

Hold too tightly onto the roots, and you’ll never fly—never discover who you really are. Hold to only flying, and you’ll lose your roost—always be wild, aimless, without a sense of home, anchor, centeredness, belonging, and heritage.

I know both types of adults. Some who’ve never flown. Some who’ve flown too freely. Which are you?

I’m curious to know--what experience taught you to fly? How did you begin to discover who you are?