Under the Bridge.

For work, I have to read Anthony Kiedis's autobiography, Scar Tissue. Kiedis is the lead singer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers and his life is insane, to put it mildly. His troubles started in his youth. His father wasn't much of a role model when Anthony was young; rather, he was his own personal drug dealer. Kiedis's life was full of drugs, sex and incessant partying. But at the core, what really held him together, was the power of music. Creating music was what saved Kiedis's life. Because of his dedication to his band, he eventually went to rehab to pull himself together.

There was a point in time when Kiedis (who was notorious for showing up to rehearsals and performances drunk and high) was the only one in the band who was sober. He felt like a buzzkill when around his fellow bandmates, and he began to experience intense feelings of loneliness. Those emotions, coupled with his regret for many of his mistakes made in the past, caused him to find solace in the city of Los Angeles.

On page 265, Kiedis writes: "...I also felt an unspoken bond between me and my city. I'd spent so much time wandering the streets of L.A. and hiking through the Hollywood Hills that I sensed there was a nonhuman entity, maybe the spirit of hills and the city, who had me in her sights and was looking after me. Even if I was a loner in my own band, at least I still felt the presence of the city I lived in."

Obviously, Kiedis and I had different childhoods and upbringings but his sentiments go to show that everyone experiences loneliness at one point or another, regardless of how much success surrounds them. It was so interesting to have stumbled across this passage after I had just written that entry about community and loneliness last night.

After writing about how he felt comforted by L.A., Kiedis wrote a poem that eventually turned into the hit song, "Under the Bridge." While my heart can't resonate with the drug-related lyrics in this song, there are some things that I can personally understand, especially about how a city can sometimes take on human-like characteristics to make you feel a little less alone:

:: sometimes i feel like i don't have a partner
sometimes i feel like my only friend
is the city i live in, the city of angels
lonely as i am, together we cry.

i drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion
i walk through her hills 'cause she knows who i am
she sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy
i never worry, now that is a lie.

i don't ever want to feel like i did that day
take me to the place i love, take me all the way
it's hard to believe that there's nobody out there
it's hard to believe that i'm all alone
at least i have her love, the city she loves me
lonely as i am, together we cry.

i don't ever want to feel like i did that day
take me to the place i love, take me all the way. ::

Fortunately, I've never felt like "there's nobody out there," but I can relate to the emotion of feeling comforted by the surroundings that have started to feel like home.

The Necessity of Community.

For awhile after graduation, I considered moving to London. I studied abroad there twice and fell in love with the city. I could imagine myself living there and I actually still can picture myself moving there someday. I was very seriously contemplating the move, even going as far as writing down the pros and cons of the decision, contacting former internship employers and seeking advice from friends who had already moved there.

Though my list of pros was long and I'm a young, unattached woman with the world at her fingertips, my heart was telling me to stick around the U.S. for a little longer. Specifically, I felt as though things were falling into place for me to stay in California because of the community I've developed here. I have a specific attachment to southern California, especially Malibu. Moving out to the West Coast for college was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My first semester at Pepperdine was defined by homesickness and loneliness. Though I made great friends (many of whom are still my best friends today), joined a sorority, plugged into a church and was accepted into an overseas program, I was constantly missing my family and my life in Wheaton. I knew there was a reason that I was 3,000 miles from home but I couldn't recall what it was.

Something changed when I got back from Christmas break and thoughts of transferring to Northwestern University (a mere 40 miles from Wheaton) disappeared. The only explanation for that peace was God. There really was nothing in my daily life that had changed; rather, I just felt like being at Pepperdine was right. After that, I never looked back. I fell in love with Malibu and my Pepperdine experience and I truly never wanted to leave.

Fast forward four years. Leaving Malibu was not something I wanted to do. So I didn't. I spent an amazing transitionary summer, living with four amazing women in a hilarious trailer park (not your typical trailer park...some of those things cost hundreds of thousands of dollars) overlooking the beach. It was the perfect balance for me because I didn't have to leave Malibu right away but I wasn't surrounded by my best friends anymore. I still had a community of friends that I'd met at Pepperdine but I was slowly learning how to cope without my favorites surrounding me on a daily basis.

Enter my move to Santa Monica. In July, I made a commitment to live with two incredible friends in an apartment on Colorado Avenue. I was so excited to move and we found a fantastic place, conveniently located five floors above a Starbucks. I was so happy to be moving into a "grown-up" space. I went to Ghana and came back to the excitement of moving in. I was on a high from my trip and my excitement was boosted by the busyness I encountered when trying to complete all of my moving tasks while back in Santa Monica.

And then reality set in. The reality that I was still fervently searching for a job, that my roommates were busy with their own jobs and graduate school, that the rest of my friends had graduated and moved away or were also working and that my friends still at Pepperdine had started classes and had resumed their lives on campus. And suddenly I felt very alone.

I had heard that many young adults my age were experiencing the same emotions as me but I couldn't believe it. Surely those friends of mine who had moved to different cities or who had already found jobs or who were getting engaged were not struggling with the same feelings as me. Surely they were happy and normal and fine. Surely I was the only one feeling that way.

It wasn't until I could be honest and vulnerable with others that I realized that while peoples' lives may look fabulous and peaceful on paper, that doesn't mean that they actually are. Everyone my age seems to be going through some sort of identity crisis, whether it's that they're struggling with a relationship, the difficulty of a new job or adjusting to a new hometown. I realized that I was really beating myself up emotionally. I constantly berated myself for not realizing how blessed I am. I have loving parents who are devoted to supporting me, roommates who care so much for me, a beautiful apartment to reside in, job opportunities that are on the brink of resulting in something great and a town that I am free to explore whenever I please. I looked at those things and got mad at myself for feeling lonely; I felt that I was being ungrateful for the gifts God had given me.

A wiser, older friend set me straight, though, telling me that it's okay to feel. Just because things appear perfect from the outside doesn't mean that they're great on the inside. Rather, we need to surround ourselves with people who lift our spirits when we can't do it ourselves. While I always knew that community was important, I didn't really get it until I experienced these new feelings of loneliness. Technology has thankfully made my world smaller, allowing me to keep in touch with those who aren't my neighbors or roommates anymore. God has placed a variety of people in my life here in Santa Monica, ranging from my best friends in the world to acquaintences I'd made at Pepperdine who can and may become treasured friends. He's allowed for random lunch dates, random phone calls and random run-ins that have boosted my morale. He's provided me with two mentors who aid me in the job search and one mentor who allows me to vent and who guides me emotionally. He's shown that He can appear to us in humanly form when we need comfort and community the most. He gives us friendships and relationships when He knows our hearts are aching from the pain of loneliness.

And sometimes He doesn't because He's asking us to cleave our hearts to His. In the silence, loneliness and pain, He wants us to turn to Him. He'll provide community to boost us at our lowest points and He'll remove it when He's asking us to take a leap of faith and trust in Him.

I am so thankful for my family and friends. I'm not sure where I would be right now without them. God has truly allowed so many new relationships to blossom in order to show His love and affection for me. Though He's had those times with me, where He's removed my community so I must seek Him out, God's showing compassion in this wild time by opening new doors for friendships and relationships for me. People I never thought I'd grow close to have shown interest in me and have pursued friendships with me. People I've always counted on have continuously shown their unconditional love for me, proving that God gave me those friendships for a reason.

I hope the people in my life know what they mean to me. I would most likely cease to exist without the community God's provided for me. This transition in life is wacky but God has used the people I've met, known and loved to allow me to rest assured that it's all gonna be all right.