Sitting down to write my blog this past weekend reminded me how much I truly enjoy keeping a blog. There is something special about documenting my time in order to share with others. As I sift through my thoughts to compile something pertinent to share I find myself desiring to share everything. I view the days following a post through the voice of my blogging. What would be captivating to share with those around me? Thus, waiting weeks between posts creates a sense of despair where I can't possibly give justice to all of the moments I experience.
There is a yearning inside of me to capture the now familiar sights, sounds, smells, and faces to help people at home step into my experience. Early on in my stay I recall saying to Natalie, "I don't feel like I have had that, "I am abroad, lonely and discovering a lot about myself" moment I hear everyone speak of as they return from their travels." Although I have not had this exact experience, over the past few weeks I have noticed that my ability to engage in a larger society and function within a working world has, indeed, been transformed. Every week I face a new, steep learning curve. The lessons I learn range from a wide variety of areas including: teaching methodology, personal space, time management, spiritual fulfillment, and community involvement. These revelations are usually revealed to me in the early mornings as I greet the day with a "jaunt" in the country.
After I crawl out of bed and into my running clothes I am ready to run off my grogginess with the rising sun. These first steps remind me that I am in a new land. I begin by passing school children, dressed in uniforms, making their way to school. As I leave the school zone I have one more street to cross before it is just me and the fields. The wait at the intersection, usually filled with more jumping jacks than I would prefer, is consumed with thoughts of the passing cars; Where are they going? What do they think of me? When a break in traffic occurs I sprint across the road and I am free. On the way out, I assess the spring planting. I note what new plots that have been tilled, wonder if the thaw has happened, and observe progress on the bridge. These thoughts are interspersed with a reflection of my previous days, friends, and teaching that lie ahead. Most mornings I loose track of time sometime between the hills and the dog farm, yes dog farm. Once I am brought back, I swiftly turn around, turn on my audio book or music and head for the apartment line. This part of my run is the most pivotal because it is as this time that I become truly thankful for my position. There have been many hard moments over the weeks, but the peace of the country, the energy of running, and the cityscape help me see outside of myself and the "bubble" I have created.
Not only is the way back full of speed, thanksgiving, and quick thoughts of how I can get ready fast enough to meet Natalie at the corner in fifteen minutes, but it is often graced by my "friend" who is driving to town on her motorized scooter. The melting snow, and warming weather has brought a new friend into my life. Though, we aren't able to communicate, we share a bond. I believe I provide her with humor. Think about it, a blonde, foreign woman running in the country. And she provides me with an appreciation for my elders and a gratitude for my mobility. I can run faster than her scooter!
Without these moments in the morning I fear I would not have the same outlook on life that I do. I might not be able to stay out late at night, or to see as much of the different neighborhoods as I desire, but I can grow in stature and appreciation for what I have in front of me each day. My wish for you is that you too have a space that provides reflection, in addition to physical and emotional growth. I know that I would not be able absorb my surroundings and keep dreaming if I did not. Please, don't stop dreaming regardless of your age, job, or situation. There is always hope.
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