How to Check Out

Have you ever checked-out? We've all checked someone out (I mean, what is facebook for if not the ultimate stalking tool?). But have you ever checked-out? And not from a hotel. I'm serious, have you ever checked-out? Anyone who's ever lived overseas knows about checking-out. I've just watched my first slew of friends in Cambodia leave, some from church, some from my organization. When you know you're leaving, when you're down to the end, it's easy to simply check-out.

Here are the fundamental steps for checking-out.

• Stop caring about where you are.
• Stop thinking about where you are.
• Stop thinking about the present, but fantasize about the future.
• Stop making plans where you are.
• Stop trying because it's all going to end soon anyway.
• Stop making new friendships, and neglect current friendships.

Is checking-out bad? I don't know if I can say. At some point, we all have to move on. Sometimes we move on before we leave. Other times we move on after we arrive at the new place. Not preparing to leave can be damaging, but over-preparing is the other damaging extreme.

My problem with checking-out is that life is meant to be lived. I know what it means to hate where you live (gosh, do I know about that). I know what it means to have finished the present and feel ready for the next step (I've lived there, for months). But is there a better way to transition? Is there a way to honor the present while knowing it will soon end? Is there a way to intentionally and respectfully transition, instead of just...checking-out?

I remember my last transition, from Washington DC to New York (where I waited two months before leaving for Cambodia). I remember cramming in one more bike trip. I remember riding down the Met-Branch Trail in the drizzling rain. I'd rode that trail often in the daylight, but this time, I saw the Capital building aglow in the distance at the end of the trail. It was magical, a perfect evening, a perfect memory, a perfect ride, less then 15 hours before I left. If I had checked-out, I wouldn't have that memory. I've checked out before, and because I did, I don't have unique memories like wet rides down the Met Branch Trail at 9pm.

Two years from now, July 2013, I'll have a month left Cambodia. Two years from now, will I have checked-out? I hope I won't. I hope I drink lots of nasty coffee, watch a lot of bad Khmer music videos, and happily drive my little moto until the very day I leave. I hope I do something new, less then 15 hours before I leave. I hope I transition. But I hope I don't check-out.