Thank you so much for subscribing to my Substack! Details below about my first singing appearance in long time coming up in April in Rochester, MN!
It’s rare that I don’t feel like an outsider. Someone who is convinced they’re unlike the others. The one who can feel completely alone in a room full of people. Sometimes it’s a feeling I conjure up, sometimes it’s my intuition sharpened by years of wondering where I might feel safe—where home might appear—that tells me I’m not like these people.
You’ll find me in the back of the audience, watching from a distance. Observing the ones up front who appear to be more engaged, wondering if they are actually feeling the connection I’ve been longing for—or if they’re just pretending, wishing for it, too. I want to be close to the exit, just in case.
My life’s questions: Where is this connection going to be found? Where does the outsider find their home?
My outsider constantly walks the tightrope between two worlds. One side is cynicism, shaped by years of disillusionment and hurt, the other side, hope.
The dark side is familiar. I know these feelings, I can maneuver them, even find a twisted kind of stability in their stench. The hope side is laced with uncertainty, which means it can be full of possibilities or it can simply be a way to keep my head up when the world keeps shoving it down. The uncertainty of hope feels more unstable, but it sure smells better from here.
Hope fuels this outsider, keeping him on the lookout for signs that Spring is blossoming, even when the temperature stays below freezing.
I don’t mind being an outsider. I can be the reporter, striving to get just the facts, ma’am. Listening to what’s said when people don’t know they’re being heard. It’s shocking the things I’ve heard, people announcing how they aren’t to be trusted.
I’m also grateful for the sense of compassion for other outsiders that has developed in me. It’s actually easier to create a sense of home or belonging for others, even if I rarely experience it myself.
I keep my eyes open for the outsider. The ones on the edges. The wall sitters, the corner grabbers. Looking out for someone who might feel like me. Seeing them, listening, waiting. If I help them find their home, will they help me find mine?
Perhaps the greatest gift we can give to another person is a sense of home.
This outsider doesn’t mind being the observer, the helper even, keeping a (hopefully) objective, 10,000-foot perspective on everything, especially when it seems others so easily get lost in their persuasions.
I don’t want to be lost. And I hope to be found one of these days.
Until then, you know where to find me.
Would you like to chat about what it feels like to be an outsider and how we can help create safe and friendly spaces for people? Join me in my chat here!
Have you heard Lauren Daigle’s new song? It’s all about finding home…
Upcoming Performances
I’m so excited to have been asked to come sing as part of a musical outreach event put on by my friends at Evangel United Methodist in Rochester, MN, April 21-23. This church is doing awesome work to help minimize hunger in their city and this event is a fundraiser for The Rochester Salvation Army Food Shelf. Please join us for this beautiful event and get your tickets real quick-like here —evangelum.org/events/fully.
Great post, Mark. I honestly don’t know anyone who hasn’t felt like an outsider at some point in their life. I’m actually embracing the times I don’t feel I quite fit in these days. Reminds me of a Maya Angelou quote about belonging. “You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great…” -- I think we learn to belong to ourselves when we embrace being an outsider and in that, I can find a lot of peace.
I believe I am one of those that you would say I enjoy it when there is a performance of any kind that I am really into it. Especially when I know the songs by heart😉😉
Looking forward to seeing you do what you do best❣️❣️
Your Friend Forever in Christ