Take it from someone who’s barely left home: It’s hard to leave home.
When I was seventeen, I had a big decision to make. Which college to I go to? And I thought I knew. I knew so well that I was packed and ready to go.
The thing is, you don’t realize how much something is going to change you until it happens. The prospect of moving away from home is usually an inviting one when you’re seventeen. You want to get the heck out of your hometown and leave your old life behind. You want to grow and bloom somewhere else.
That’s all well and good, but the best-laid plans are ones that are well thought through. Moving away from my hometown to a prestigious college in southern Michigan sounded amazing. I visited the campus, fell in love with it, and thought that was that. That was my destiny.
It wasn’t.
One of the most embarrassing experiences of my life was moving out of a dorm I’d moved into only a week before, appealing to the administration to pro-rate my tuition and room and board, and moving into a new college thirty minutes from home the next week. I vividly remember the tearful conversations with my parents over the phone, the confusion, the chaos, and the crippling anxiety.
Four years later, I’m still wondering what would’ve happened if I’d just toughed it out and stayed. I’m not the only one to experience homesickness. But I just couldn’t do it. And it humiliated me. (Which was probably a good thing, in hindsight.)
I’m thankful that I ended up where I did, and even though I still live near my hometown, it’s still been painful to grow and change. I felt the same way moving out of my parents’ house. It’s not just a change of location. It’s a change of pace, lifestyle, and routine. I even felt that way graduating college – it’s a new phase of life, and don’t think for a minute it’s not going to change you.
Day Seventeen: Made of Stone – Matt Corby
Taken from a short 2012 EP of the same name, “Made of Stone” was featured on an episode of The Blacklist. I’m not savvy enough to have Shazam, so I Googled the lyrics that I remembered. “Kept my heart but it’s made of stone.” I normally don’t attach to songs from TV shows, but this one was so haunting that I needed it in my life. It begins with rapid piano arpeggios that gives you the sense that someone is running. Matt Corby’s voice is soft and strained, with a hidden power to it.
See I left my mother’s arms
See I left my father’s home
And I fell into a well of harm
Kept my heart but it’s made of stone
And that’s it. Those are the lyrics throughout the entire song. Corby infuses some intense vocalizations between choruses, almost evoking the cries of a depraved, homesick person. The percussive aspects of the song intensify leading into the second chorus, and Corby sings out the rest of the song repeating, “Kept my heart but it’s made of stone,” along with some lengthy vocalization.
Although it’s a fairly simple song, it’s a pretty intense journey. If you’ve ever been homesick, you know the dichotomy. One minute you feel fine, the next you’re desperate and sad and angry. You’ll hear each of these moments in the song.
TL;DR, it’s difficult to leave home. It’s especially difficult to leave home and expect everything to stay the same. Even if you just move across town.
But leaving home is a necessary part of life, even if you fall into a “well of harm.” The song seems cautionary in that you shouldn’t forget who you are even if finding yourself is hard. Keep your heart, it says. Corby’s protagonist wasn’t so smart. As soon as he left his family and home, he lost himself.
I don’t exactly remember where this song was featured in The Blacklist, only that it was in one of the earlier episodes. (Full disclosure: I ended up not really liking the show and I stopped watching it.) I just remember how it stuck with me. It was after my first year at Cornerstone, but it brought back all those memories of the summer before – how excited I was to move away and see the world (in southern Michigan!) How excited I was to start a new chapter of my life. But I turned the page too fast and it gave me a papercut.
Songs can remind us of how far we’ve come. We can look back and see what it was all worth it in the end. I changed, but I didn’t lose myself. My heart isn’t made of stone. At least I hope it’s not.
My biggest change recently was graduating college, launching into a career path, and adjusting my identity from full-time student to balancing a number of identities: coworker, roommate, girlfriend, citizen of society. It’s hard to take that next step into “the real world” and still stay sane.
Wherever you end up, remember your roots. You could move across town or across the world. You could go to college or trade school. You could work full-time, parent full-time, do both, or do something completely different. You’ll only lose yourself if you cut ties with your roots.
Keep your heart, whether it’s made of stone or not.
a. w.
Audrey D. DeBoer 