Christmas

While I would love to be spending my last Christmas in America for a while with my family, spending it at work is almost as good. This morning I got to watch clients open their presents. Each client also received a personalized letter from Santa. A lot of these kids haven't had a real holiday before, and watching them open gifts and then marvel over their Santa letter ("He saw the picture I drew him!") helps me to feel the true spirit of Christmas; giving, and giving with care.

"We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give."
Winston Churchill

Family Gratitude

This last weekend I celebrated Christmas with my family, and want to be sure to remember my gratitude towards them during all this chaos and disarray. I am grateful for recitals, for ballet dancers and tiny reindeer. I am grateful for blowing spit bubbles, I am grateful for chocolate, to eat and to bribe with. I am grateful for presents, for both giving and getting. I am grateful for cuddles from little tiny people, for hugs from the big kids, for love from the family. I am grateful for joking in the kitchen, and racing in on lightrail, for singing along to recital music, and being able to steal sweaters. Ultimately, I am grateful, day in and day out, for the light and airy feelings that buoy me through; these are my real Christmas gifts from my family.

The Next Step

It seems like so recently that I received the news of my destination. The steps that I've taken are huge, particularly for someone as stubbornly independent as I tend to be. I am now sharing my space with my partner. It was a prickly transition, but surprisingly easy for me now. At first, I could not come to terms with not being able to do my laundry whenever I want, or never washing dishes, or any of the other gross things I just accept about my apartment. It was nearly impossible for my mind to accept that she has her own rules, and her own way of living in her space. While I went into it knowing that I was going to be her guest, I suppose I thought it would be a situation where, after a few weeks of give and take, I would be able to run the show. This, of course, is not the case. Living according to someone else's rules is a challenge, but nothing compared to the challenges I'm looking at in the next few months. I'm still learning to take things slowly, to appreciate the moment, and to take the time to sleep like a starfish when I have the bed to myself.

"Be not afraid of growing slowly, be only afraid of standing still."
-Chinese Proverb

Contentment

Max spent his night with my coworker the other night. She's going to be taking care of him while I am gone, and we decided it was important to get him used to her house. I realize that he is an animal, and would hate to ever consider myself one of "those people", but he is so important to me. He is absolute and unconditional love, he is constant, he is happy, and he is unequivocally mine. Leaving him is going to be hard. He doesn't seem to fall under the same category as the people in my life; while they are capable of understanding the tie that binds us together remaining through my adventures, Max is not. There is no explaining to an animal that you will be back, they only know you are gone.
I asked on the facebook site for this trip what everyone was doing to prepare. I don't want to use their answers, but I love knowing how people are getting ready. It's like that party question; If the world were to end tomorrow, what would you spend today doing? Maybe one day I'll get to the point where I'll be able to honestly say that I am so happy with the way I live my life that I would spend today doing exactly what I spend every day doing. That's the goal right now; to continue living my life the way that I am right now, because I know that's what I will miss the most.
Today, Max comes back to my house for my weekend. I cannot wait to spend the evening with him in my apartment. Maybe I have reached the point where the most I want to do is what I am already doing. I believe that's called contentment.

Why I'll Never Win the Lotto

Recently, the powerball hit $575,000,000. People who I thought were full of common sense and aware of the mathematical impossibility of their winning (I believe the odds were one in never ever going to happen) were discussing their yachts, debating the pros and cons of private jets, and making their friends mud-wrestle for the biggest gift.
While I looked on the hoopla with a cynical eye, I wasn't above imagining what I would buy first. It would start with a nicer house, then the requisite presents for the family and loved ones, followed in short order by trips around the world. I've got it planned out.
Notice that in no place do I mention continuing to work or going into Peace Corps. If I had the opportunities that money would afford me, I don't believe that I would be as passionate about PC to travel. I have the utmost respect for people in jobs like mine who come to work in their Mercedes-Benz, who have partners that make more than they could feasibly spend, because if I had those financial freedoms, I doubt I would continue to work. I fantasize about being able to go back for graduate school without the stress of student loans, but if I had the money I don't believe that I would do so.
Virtually all of the volunteering I've done, the giving back, the dedicating myself to a cause, it was to enhance my own experience. It's ultimately selfish: to build opportunities for myself, to push my limits, to learn and grow.
Recently I realized that, with the removal of rent from my monthly bills until I leave, I will have a considerable amount of spare cash. Instead of generosity, I immediately pictured my bank account swelling. I didn't dream up expensive Christmas gifts for my family, but rather expensive shoes for Ghana. The next day I received a number of bills, which pushed away my fantasy of relative wealth. Initially I panicked, creating unrealistic scenarios wherein I ignore the dental bill or survive on ten dollars a week. It was only about an hour later that I realized that the universe was effectively saving me from myself. I am much more generous when I am on a budget. Something about surplus cash brings out the worst kind of miser in me.
I don't know that I've done good in my life. I know that I have tried, that I have volunteered, helped people in crisis, done my best to give when I can. This is why I won't win the lottery; until I become a much more selfless person, any positive impact I could have on the world would be nullified as soon as the check cleared. I am grateful for my bills. I am grateful for the guidance of the universe. 

Impermanence

I have a bad habit of always wanting to keep things. It's why I take so many pictures; it's why there are drawers too full to close with movie stubs, unwanted gifts. It's why, when you moved out of our house I kept things you didn't know you'd left behind. I waited for the day time would finally rewind and you'd come back home. Happiness looks good on you. So does that extra ten pounds. I'm not trying to be mean; maybe when the world lifted from your shoulders you finally found the room to expand.

Let it be...Somehow

"If you love somebody, let them go. If they come back, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were" 

Over the last few days I've heard say, over and over again, that if you truly love something you must let it go. I find that when I am supposed to learn a lesson, it pops up in unexpected places. Like this, when two friends, a coworker and my partner all told me anecdotes that held the moral that in order to know love, you had to release it.

I'm not really good at letting things go. My tendency is toward obsessing, over-analyzing, and then fitting the result in a neat and tidy mental box. Releasing my death grip on the future is next to impossible for me. 

This is part of why Peace Corps holds such allure for me. There is absolutely no way for me to know what that time will look like. Despite all of the research I've done, all of the youtube videos I've watched and Twi phrases I've repeated, I have no idea what Ghana will be like. I don't know the things I will learn about myself, I don't know what I'll eat, I don't know what I'll wear, I don't know who I'll know. I believe that's a lot of what my life is about; pushing my limits and doing the things I am most afraid of. But this doesn't make me less afraid right now. 

It's hard for me, but I am trying to release my grip on the things that are the most important to me and allow the universe to show me what my path will be. And who I will share it with. 

Gratitude

"Imagine how grateful you'd be if you lost everything you have, and then got it all back again"

Being more aware of leaving has made me appreciate all of the things I have forgotten to be grateful for. Things like laundry, late mornings with my partner, flavored coffee, and that cold in the air that speaks of things to come.

I love the life that I have, even more so now that I know what my time limit is in Denver. I love my opportunity to grow and gain experience so far outside of my comfort zone. It's a bittersweet season. I'm letting go of all of the things I have, but exchanging them for so much more.

Fall

“The leaves have all fallen. They fell like they were in love with the ground.”

                        -Andrea Gibson

 

Fall is my favorite season. That may be hard to believe, since I say the same thing about spring and summer, but something about watching the leaves change and fall makes me feel peaceful and content.

I am changing. I am purging my closets of things that, despite my best intentions, I have never worn. I am cleaning out drawers full of cards, of love letters, of the things I have held on to far too long. Preparing myself for peace corps means so much more than filing my visa; it is looking at my life and clearing out the excess. It is remembering that I do not have to own something to love it. Hard as it will be, beginning in December I will release my books, and then my pets, and finally my loved ones. There are ties that keep me connected to them, and there always will be. The hard part will be remembering that those ties of love will exist after I have gone.

I remember being in college and finding that my roommate had accidentally broken my dvd player. It had been a gift from my mother after a particularly trying part of our relationship, and I remembering receiving it with some surprise and thinking to myself “oh! She still loves me.” Despite our distance, that gift had been indicative of her continued love and capacity to forgive my prickly adolescence. Although I had long since stopped using it, I began crying. Calling my mom to tell her it had broken, she gently chided me “The dvd player is a thing. It doesn’t mean anything. The feelings I had giving it to you, the love and the connection, those things are what is important, and those things are always there.”

Whenever I think of the vast difference that will separate me from my loved ones in the coming years, I remember her telling me that. Their presence is important, but no matter where I go, that love and connection will still be there. I can travel around the world, and know they will be waiting for me when I come home.

Got to remember to slow down

I remembered today that it's November in Denver, and I'm not leaving until February. Chances are good I should have waited to pack my winter coats. With my determination to be on top of this trip, I have completely gotten ahead of myself!
One huge positive; Space Bags. These things are amazing. I keep opening them to let the air out so I can vacuum them closed again. Next time I do that I think I'll grab some of the winter coats I packed away.

Duct Tape

I have officially made my first purchase for the Great Ghana Trip.

I've never been so excited for tape.
KJ

Invitation

After over a year of working towards my Peace Corps experience, I have received my invitation. It's difficult to explain the exact feelings this brings; from moment to moment I can't decide if I want to dance or vomit. Generally, it's a bit of both (the vomit-dance! Messy. Awesome). Often it's relief. After spending hours filling out paperwork, sitting in the offices of doctors or dentists, researching, getting my hopes up, holding my breath, and then waiting more, there is both an end date and destination.

Ghana:
The first country to host Peace Corps in 1961, a beautiful country in West Africa, my new home beginning in February. I'd heard initially that I would be placed in Asia, so responses when I told my family and friends were tepid; "are you disappointed?", "do you think you'll go?", "I'm sorry to hear that." Well I'm not. I am a Denver girl who has never lived further than a few hours away from where I was born. And now I am able to go to Africa. The birthplace of humanity, cultures that pre-date the origin of my country, languages I've not only never heard, I've never heard of! Now I feel like doing the vomit-dance again.

Unfortunately I do not simply get to hop on a plane. Emails from the medical department are coming in at a rate of a few per week. Messages from my Placement officer come with numbered lists of things that he recommends I do. I have ninety days, and in that time I need to turn in all of my paperwork (filled out flawlessly, or I risk being the only volunteer without a passport), get my shots, compile and make copies of my legal paperwork, get shots for my pets and get them situated with their foster families, pack up my apartment, get rid of years of accumulated junk, move in with my partner, buy everything I'll need for the next 27 months, and somehow fit all of it into two pieces of checked luggage and one piece of carry-on.
This is a blessing in disguise. Every time I have a moment to slow down and actually think, I remember that in less than a hundred days I will be pledging two years to service in a country I've never been. Thank god they're keeping me busy or I'd be going absolutely crazy!

And now to pack. Or do paperwork. But probably just dance-vomit.

KJ