THE SEASONS CHANGE

Sometimes it feels like a whole lifetime has passed by since I left Sacramento in January. So much has happened this year to change my perspectives, challenge my beliefs and mess with my mind and heart. I find myself slowly picking up the pieces of my life, looking at each piece and asking myself 'did I ever truly like doing this or did I do it out of some sense of obligation or idea that it would get me something?' I don't know if everyone reasseses there life after this kind of year but that is where I seem to be.

It's not easy to write this blog nowadays and I wonder why I do. The witty, somewhat interesting girl I once believed myself to be is hard to find these days. Replaced by a much quieter, harder, more realistic being. I find that not many people truly want to know what Africa was like. I don't think it's because they're not okay people but I think they have there own lives, their own world issues to address and it's also that I cannot explain the experiences and feelings I had there in some sort of easy to swallow way. How can I explain that the darkness I found was in me, not them, not Africa? The darkness is there too but they seemed to know how to live with the circumstances of their lives but I couldn't. I'm the one that doesn't accept that the world needs to be this way. I'm the one that spends at least half my life, in my head, searching for logical explanations to the behavior of humans.

There is this one lesson I've been learning more and more this year. Through everything the thread has been 'just keep going.' I want life to be ridiculously happy, make sense, seem good but that's just not my worldview right now. Maybe it will be again one day (and then it will probably pass again) but currently I've come to intimately understand that life beats you down some days, helps you to doubt yourself, your worth, doesn't give you what you want. So what do I do in times like these, just keep going. Some days I do it with a smile and gratitude for the friends I have, the roof over my head, the food that's available, the sunny skies and the fall leaves. But some days, I do it by putting one foot in front of the other. And some days, I do it by pulling the covers over my head and sleeping.

I moved back to Sacramento, to the place that feels like home. Simple things make me happy...unexpected visitors at my door, watching a movie with friends, getting an ice cream at the Loving Spoonful, going places where people know my name, anonymity. I've found work that I can do. And life just sort of moves on. And so do I.

KEEPING IT REAL

I've had some time to think about my experiences of the past year, my thoughts are still jumbled and I hope I find some more clarity as I write this.

Africa was supposed to be a culmination of everything that I had done in my life, it was supposed to reveal to me my destiny. It was also supposed to be the way I proved to the world that I was loveable and valuable, that my existence has some purpose. Finding Sam, the man of my dreams and having him love me was supposed to be the same thing. A culmination of all my efforts to be worthy and to have a good man recognize and cherish that. Now I sit here, with the understanding that neither Africa or Sam are my end stories and they have not revealed to me my purpose on this planet. I realized both of those long held and long awaited dreams only to learn that I did not fit in them.

I think I needed Africa, or just Uganda, or maybe just Nagalama and Kiyunga to adore me and that it turn would finally prove I was worthy, valuable, loveable, whatever. The truth is they didn't adore me, they in fact survived before me and will continue to do so now that I've left. And each time I felt their disdain, or heard their laughter, or was ripped off or whatever...I took it in and believed that I deserved all of it. None of the good things I did could outweigh how much I felt like I had failed. Because when it comes down to the nitty gritty, my ultimate goal has been to get you to love me, them to love me, the world to love me. What overwhelming arrogance, pride and vanity. How sad. To finally realize that I'm just a woman wanting to be loved, not a hero, not extraordinarily unique...just me who thought if I did enough good things, acheived enough, that I would be as good as or better than everyone else.

Now my dreams are done. I don't have some huge, glamorous goal, don't particularly feel like changing the world, no job, living with Dad, no exciting adventure looming on the horizon, cannot seem to care about the things that once seemed so important to me. I do have good credit, I've got that going for me. I also have a bad attitude and a fiendish case of self-pity. I'm kind of stripped down to the bare essentials and beginning to know in my heart that it doesn't matter how many compliments I receive, how many races I run, how many daring feats I perform, how many mountains I climb...I will not stop feeling like a failure until I know for myself, by myself and deep within myself that I am worthy of this life, even if I didn't manage to scoop Africa out of poverty.

It seems that each achievement I've gone after has been this desperate hand reaching out for validation, to outrace the demon in my heart that tells me I'm not good enough unless I'm doing something spectacular. So I guess what happened with all that extra time I had in Africa and now here in Long Beach, California is I finally had the opportunity to look my big ole ugly demon in the face and recognize what I've been running from all these years. Me.

Wow. I was supposed to return victorious...oops. But you know what, I'm sitting in the rubble of my fluffy dreams and I see that I can build something here. Not sure what yet but it won't be a chia pet that needs the world's love and praise to grow...it'll be me, a strong woman that grows from the inside. I'm not going to walk the path that I think will make everyone happy and adoring, I'm going to walk my path. There is this phrase that if you can see the path that you can walk on, it's not yours. I cannot see any path at all...so I suppose I'm finally walking my own. I've also heard that the way to build self-esteem is by doing esteemable things. Hmmm, I wonder what that would entail? Doing something good for someone else without the intention of getting them to love me? Maybe?

So it dawns on me that maybe Africa was the culmination of everything that came before. Perhaps I am exactly where I need to be, and the experiences I had were perfectly mine...the exact ones I needed to open my eyes to my own fears, insecurities, strenghts and weaknesses. Perhaps the new skin I am growing into is my own. And now the real adventure begins.

I think it's incredibly ironic that I am going to call a friend and read this to her before I'll work up the balls to post this blog. She said, "the truth shall set you free."