Monday, February 20, 2012

Deciduous, Decidedly

All red blossoms and leaves verdant green
Fell, rotten, froze
Eventually my guise,
Out identity
If you didn't know me before,
Without,
You now won't glance, see
Only sticks
Stripped twigs thinly remain.
Naked, bare
You'd think them dying, strange
Oh, no.
This is not death,
Everlasting honesty,
Just a glimpse,
Purge,
Fleeting truth,
Look- see
Making way
For spring's bright color
Rest before summer's
Exhausting heat
And a glimpse,
To prepare,
To ponder,
That true fall
That last winter
With Peace.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

I am not crazy

Valentine’s day recently passed and I celebrated in my usual manner; by filing my taxes. It didn’t take long because my life is remarkably uncomplicated. While I wait to see where I’ll be in April, study in preparation, and line up shadowing opportunities, I jog daily, bake, and hang out with my grandparents. Despite this simplicity, I do not have the clarity that I did in Uganda. I returned to the states a bit suspicious of the conclusions I reached overseas. I wondered if I could trust such out of context decisions. Cluttered now with my so much well intentioned advice, competing opportunities, chances to compare myself with others, and life details, details, details, many days I often cannot see the big picture. What am I doing? And why on earth? I realize this is the reason I went to Lesotho in the first place and part of what attracted me to the Peace Corps. The ability to think; clarity, solitude—and it is what I experienced. I have begun to respect the space for thinking that I had there. I am not confused about where I am going or what I am doing. I am not bewildered. I am not lost. I am, instead, one of the only people I know who have been able to think about what I am doing, to stop the hamster wheel, get out of the cage and make active decisions.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Cards

When it’s cold outside and you don’t have an ice shack or a hunting license (or even a gun), you end up with--- cards. I have developed my strategy; simply all or nothing. Like in crazy rummy, I hold on to my high cards until I can get them to count for me. If someone else goes out first, I lose, big. If not, I really win. As I was holding my cards, hoping that no one would go out first, hoping that the right card would come my way, I realized that this is my life. My masters’ and Peace Corps are great wild cards but not a complete hand. I have some small cards but am holding my hand for bigger ones. I turned down a position as the County child protective services caseworker. It would have been a decent hand. It would have led to a decent life. Instead, I held onto my cards. I’m turning down the small things that threaten to make me settle; a date with so- and- so; a minimum wage job, anxiety over future debt. I’m giving myself permission to take these three months at my grandparents house to study Calculus, Chemistry and Biology (some with and some without a classroom class) to review my MCAT books, to apply and look into different pre- med and med options, and to read. Paul Farmer, not a good bedside book because it fills me with drive to pursue medicine, teaches me that my background is valid and my future pursuits worthwhile—to keep holding onto these cards, to try for the big ones. I did hold those cards last night and made 500 points in one round (instead of the 20 I would have otherwise). The next round, I lost, also grandly. I do worry that I am throwing away the bird in the hand for the elusive flock in the tree. My life, however, is not exactly like cards. First of all, as a first world citizen, I don’t have to worry as much about someone else ending it for me. No, instead the round is very, very long. Too long to go out settling for what I have in my hand so far.