Responding to the Universal Question

Well, maybe it's not the universal question, but it's the one that comes up most frequently with my haven't-seen-in-two-years-or-more-mates. This is in response to the "would you go to Moldova again?" question asked in a comment from the previous entry:

Hi Laquia -

Since I can't link to your profile, I'll respond here. Let me start by thanking you for asking my opinion! I was glad I ended up in Eastern Europe, but if you read my earliest blogs, I DID ask to go someplace else but then "left it up to fate/God/life/everyone that knew better." Some have somehow gotten the impression from my blog that I would have come home, which confuses me because I like to word my blogs carefully. But if that were the case then I actually WOULD have come home. No, it was sad and I was lonely sometimes, but I knew I was getting myself into this for two years and not at one point did I actually even seriously consider leaving early. And, truthfully, that was partly out of curiosity for what would come at the end -- an intuitive blessing, seeing as the most "productive" events did come at the end...but don't they always?

But it was my choice to "go where I was needed," and I have no doubt now that Moldova was the right place for me to be. But that's also my whole outlook on life, God, decisions, and events...but yes, I did FEEL as if it was the right place when I landed and I can REASON now exactly how it worked out in my benefit. "If I hadn't gone to Moldova, I never would have..." and so on. I now have a new understanding (and awareness!) of a whole region I had never really thought of before.

I, too, was in shock when they told me I had been sifted to Eastern Europe, but this was my process and it doesn't work for everyone. I understand intimately that this experience is not for everyone, and, even within the same village, volunteers have entirely different experiences.

So there are a million different ways I can elaborate upon this response, but to keep it short and straight to the "would I do it again?" question: I'm sure glad I did it once.

The Limitless Ocean

And here almost another two months have passed us by and it feels both like only a week has passed and simultaneously a whole lifetime.

This really has been an incredible period for me, these first few months of 2010.  I received my first responses from schools in January and am actually still waiting for the last one.  So it has, needless to say, been a very long and emotional process.  But very exciting.  I wanted an easy choice -- "just one school please" -- and instead got an avalanche of options.  I tried to remember to feel glad to have these options, grateful for the opportunities that were throwing themselves at me, but I continued to feel stressed, saddened to have to let some of these options go.  And with every response my emotions changed a million times over.  So while I'm not going to waste time with the play-by-play, I'll tell you that the predominant lesson was in telling myself to wait "just a little longer" because I knew that it wasn't time to make a decision yet; there were still more factors.

And perhaps it still isn't yet time, but it feels close.  And out of respect for the schools I will likely not be attending, I want to let them know in as timely a manner as possible.  But...wonderfully...I have finally come to this great excitement, this liberation from worrying about the options I felt I am tossing and (almost pure) enthusiasm for the multitude of directions I could go in from here. (More on this later.)

But life, though seeming to revolve around graduate school responses, does not.  And I have filled January, February, and March with an art class that I am so glad to have taken, new avenues in prayer and meditation, a re-inspired joy of teaching/coaching...and dreaming about SEA.

1) The painting class: This was something I told myself I wanted to do while I was still in Moldova.  I wanted to improve. I wanted to learn.  I didn't want my painting to be inhibited by ignorance, but to be propelled by whatever my inner spirit desires.  So I went to an open house at the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art, won a small discount in their drawing, and (since I believe that serendipity is inspired) signed up. Although, truth be told, I probably would have signed up anyway.  I was so nervous at first; I had never painted with oils and "drawing with a paintbrush" had only just begun to be even semi-successful. But there is so much concentration involved! I know this seems like a given, but it wore me out.  I kept telling myself that I was taking this class to improve, to learn from it, to get feedback from a (very helpful) teacher...and that I could paint whatever I wanted when I was done.  

And it has been so worth it.  I don't feel totally skilled yet, but I feel optimistic.  I am more aware and excited and eager and feel I have at least crossed a painting threshold.

2) Meditation: I had anteed up my prayer and meditation since summer 2006, and did some more reading while in Peace Corps.  Prayer and patience and trust in the harmony of life's events became a silent constant while gone.  But I knew that I wanted to seek it out.  I wanted, like with painting, to learn from someone.  When I got back, I looked up retreats and classes and all of them seemed either too far or too expensive or too "something," but then I found a group on Meetup.com (which I had signed up for in college to find French-speaking groups I never went to).  The group is all the way in Torrance (anandasouthbay.org) but it has been so perfect and beautiful.  I knew that I was going into more constant meditation practices because I wanted to learn how to listen better, to silence all excess and just LISTEN.  But, again like painting, it takes concentration.  And effort.  And these two parallels completely exhausted me in the beginning.  

Come mid-February, I was so emotionally spent, but I knew I was going in the right direction.  I spent so much time in Moldova in inner-reflection, thinking about who I want to be, and these few months home have been the opportunity to LIVE IT OUT.  And it feels GREAT!!  Now, at least.

3) Coaching Gymnastics:  Being around kindergarteners again was humbling.  It reminded me that I really don't know what I'm doing.  And coming in as the substitute at low-income schools (where the kids don't necessarily want to be there and certainly don't want to compete) was a big challenge.  The driving around stressed me out.  The rush hour traffic stressed me out.  The kindergarteners stressed me out.  And so this became the outlet for the attitude I've gained over these past few years.  Because even through the stress, there are beautiful moments when you just feel...light...and totally at ease and you remember why you LOVE working with kids and why you applied to the schools you applied to and why you want to study what you want to study.  And everything makes sense.  And then by the beginning of March you feel on top of the world and you are rocking the classes again and you are smiling and see the good in each child and are so grateful to have the chance to do this again.

Each of these things affected the others and the culminating result is a Samantha that feels so much more patient and free.  But now I can see the wheels turning again and I can't stop thinking about SEA.  In a little over two months I will be heading to Massachusetts to learn about navigation and oceanography, to prep for a 4-week trip from Honolulu to San Francisco.  I will know where I am going to school.  I will be done with coaching and driving in rush hour.  And I will be standing on a ship looking out into a literally limitless ocean.  And I couldn't think of anything better.