Light A Candle

I’m reassigned as an English teacher in Indonesia starting March 2014. Since I gave up my real job a month ago because I expected to leave for Kenya in October, I’ve been looking for seasonal and part-time work to keep me busy. So I applied for an activity aide position at a nursing home where my sister works, and I was basically hired. The job seemed super cool with lots of interaction with different kinds of people. I’d be leading BINGO games and doing sensory exercises with the residents. It all seemed like a productive use of my time for the next four months. The Activities Director approved of my choice to serve in the Peace Corps. She also really needed the help so didn’t mind my four-month stay. But when the HR manager found out how long I planned to stay, I was un-hired. 

In this unfortunate situation, I could do two things: move on or dwell.

I could have considered lying to the HR manager, saying I’d stay longer then quit when I eventually leave for Indonesia. But that would weigh on my conscience. I could have damned the whole facility and stayed angry for not being given the opportunity to grace its residents with my charisma. But would that solve anything?

A proverb:

“Look at what you’ve got and make the best of it. It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”

But sometimes I pride myself for writing down every thought and emotion I have that I think it’s self-reflection when I'm really just over thinking. Ranting is not self-reflection. Dwelling on the past is not self-reflection. Looking to the past can be helpful if you're using those mistakes as a jumping off point to start negotiations with yourself. Is it time to change my behavior? What does this mistake mean for me in the long-run? 

It can be hard to spot the over thinking when emotions run high. I always thought it was a good thing to be aggressive when it came to expressing how I feel, but perhaps the aggression should be redirected in a positive way. Instead of plotting some grand revenge, I should be using that energy to thinking about the next opportunity. 

I’m still bummed I didn’t officially get the job, but it's no use letting the bitterness rule my life. Time to move on. Time to learn from my mistakes. Time to tweak my resume a bit more for the next interview. 

Afterward, I enjoyed some retail therapy. I went rogue and bought very trendy pants (I think they’re pants) from Forever 21. I typically wouldn’t buy pants there but until Indonesia, I will try to be more stylish. We all need roles to play to make life more interesting. And please take note that “try” is the keyword. I just hope I don’t look like I’m trying too hard.

Added Pressure

Our trip to Kenya has been indefinitely postponed. And all the volunteers who were supposed to go will be reassigned to different countries with different assignments. This process may take several months, so I’m sure I’m not the only one who is feeling the pressure to figure out what to do for the next several months. I keep telling myself:

“You have to let the added pressure move you forward, not drown you.”

But the setback has me drowning in pity for myself because I feel stuck. I should easily move on to the next leg of my career goal, which is graduate school. But I want to do the Peace Corps before graduate school because I expect the experience to mentally and emotionally prepare me for the new level of academic rigor that graduate school demands. Basically, I feel unproductive, which is a feeling I do not welcome.

To drag out this pity party, I still feel like a kid and I need to get over that by drastically changing how I live my life. But I can't really do that until I start this Peace Corps journey. I need to transform into a person who is ready to accept adulthood because I currently do not.

At my current mental state, I’m reminded by Robert Frost’s poem,

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Whose woods these are I think I know. 

His house is in the village though; 

He will not see me stopping here 

To watch his woods fill up with snow. 

My little horse must think it queer 

To stop without a farmhouse near 

Between the woods and frozen lake 

The darkest evening of the year. 

He gives his harness bells a shake 

To ask if there is some mistake. 

The only other sound’s the sweep 

Of easy wind and downy flake. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. 

But I have promises to keep, 

And miles to go before I sleep, 

And miles to go before I sleep. 

I’m still committed to serve because I know Peace Corps will be worth the wait. And I expect the journey to be "dark and deep." I expect Peace Corps to challenge me in unexpected ways. I expect to develop new skills that could only develop from overcoming adversity. 

The only thing I wasn't expecting was the journey to the start of the real journey.

The Next Four Weeks

The Westgate Mall shooting delayed my trip to Kenya six weeks for security reasons. A terrible thing happened in the capital and I can’t help thinking:

“I just want to start my awesome Peace Corps adventure now!”

But I’m so thankful to have friends who give me reality checks. Some say:

“Everything happens for a reason.” While others say:

“You can still have meaningful experiences here before Kenya.”

They both hold some truth, but what are those meaningful experiences? I’ve already put my head in the Peace Corps game and now I need a new game plan for the next few weeks. How can I hope for meaning when I feel like I’m in limbo?

A friend sent me an article about meaning and happiness. Meaning and happiness seem exclusive from one another, but at the same time affect each other. For example, I’ve a lot of eggs in this Peace Corps basket. I want this experience to develop a lot of meaning in my life to the point where I feel comfortable seeking out experiences that make me happy.

This thinking may seem too linear and there’s obviously some overlap between meaning and happiness, but overall I see meaning as a requirement to finding happiness because having experiences that have meaning, like public service jobs, define who we are. Once we are defined, we’re able to stand on our own two feet, to make sound decisions by weighing the pros and cons, to practice empathy, and to know when to listen and when to talk.

How can we find happiness and do the things we really want if we don’t even know who we are first?

How can we seek out happiness if we first don’t know our own abilities and limits?

These meaningful experiences test our boundaries and let us know how well we function in different situations. And once we establish those boundaries, then we are able to stretch those boundaries with things that make us happy. We test our resiliency and expand our perspectives in hopes of widening those boundaries. We can’t test the strength of our resiliency if we’ve yet to establish the boundaries first.

So perhaps this waiting period is yet another meaningful link in the chain that defines who I am. Waiting requires flexibility and resilience. And if I want to widen my boundaries with things that make my happy as I hope to do, I have to practice these skills now. So yes, I can acknowledge that I’m impatient with the wait, but I also have to practice against the urge.