tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85356051965098441052024-03-14T07:29:13.103-06:00Adventures with EmmalineYour fashionable, philosophical friendAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-49102783996530446152016-03-17T10:55:00.000-06:002016-03-17T13:12:22.890-06:00The Choice of Happiness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBxqZQxIIfVrXJ_sJ2zIuyDXQLANmKip26zjiP9nhGAVKEPgZpcTIvIjsuPwoO79L6V2Up3EkQYYVqS1MbANHTcT2Z7_qD1zYUvg_hVW_LAXnD_lHJooAiWKNHXuR09f3XJbHdRMezD0/s1600/165879-170555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBxqZQxIIfVrXJ_sJ2zIuyDXQLANmKip26zjiP9nhGAVKEPgZpcTIvIjsuPwoO79L6V2Up3EkQYYVqS1MbANHTcT2Z7_qD1zYUvg_hVW_LAXnD_lHJooAiWKNHXuR09f3XJbHdRMezD0/s320/165879-170555.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The pursuit of happiness is universal. Indeed, it is written
into the Constitution of the United States as an inalienable right. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We</span> link<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> it</span>
to our careers, our localities, the things we buy and people we surround ourselves
with (or, in explorations of minimalism, the things we do not). We
spend endless money and countless hours trying to construct what we believe
will bring us happiness.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>The problem? The
happiness we’ve been taught to pursue is conditional. </b>It depends on other
people <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">not only</span> to create, but<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to </span>validate it. It exists outside of us and is
often short-lived because we can always be <i>happier</i>.<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span>Just<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> t</span>hink of all of the people,
businesses and enterprises that profit from this desperate, endless search<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> ...</span> If
the idea is to find satisfaction in a happy heart, shouldn’t <u>we</u> be reaping the
benefits?<i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>When I'm engaged, I’ll be happy; I’ll be happy when I have a
daughter; If I leave you for someone else, I’ll be happy; I’ll be happy when you
clean the dishes; I just need to find another office and my career wi<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ll</span> make me happy; if <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I lose weight I will be happy</span> ...</i> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This kind of happiness places the pressure of something
largely left to choice on the words, actions and intentions of others. And because
humans are unpredictable<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> and</span> ‘burdened’ by free will, our expectations stay
largely unmet. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It’s a cycle we<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> pass onto</span> our children, who spend their lives
searching for happiness in the attainment and distribution of approval. And
before we know it, happiness is a business exchange – just sign on the dotted line. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The thing is, it’s all a lie.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We already possess happiness. It exists within us, without
the help or hindrance of any external force. It is a choice<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> and</span> a perspective. <b>And</b> <b>each time we make our happiness dependent upon anything or anyone else,
we freely and willingly give up the power over <i>our</i> lives.</b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sure, there are circumstances that make the choice of
happiness a heavier one, but it always lives within your heart just waiting to
be plucked. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Y</span>ou are the driv<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ing force<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My advice? The same as always – start small<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, be patient.</span> Things like this take time.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Notice the good in each day; one tiny good thing. Hold onto it
tight and plant it in your mind. With each new day find more tiny good things.
Focus on them, water and nurture them. Take what you can inch by inch. Explore <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">it like a garden</span>; encourage it to grow. <b>Free yourself of the
burden <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">of</span> <i>finding</i> happiness and give yourself
permission to <i>be</i> it.</b> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Think of it as a hobby<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">habit of will. Take the time to practice, just as you might for a marathon, concert or test, and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">before you know it <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">happiness<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> will</span></span></span> become second-nature.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I</span></span>f happiness is the key to a life well-lived, it's time take back your life.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">xx</span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-45190813921601371872016-02-27T15:16:00.000-07:002016-02-27T15:47:03.359-07:00The Key to Choosing Minimalism: Starting Small<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr4KG4d5EFZQGUw0n0OwX6jWvUKIp11WcJLCKCYW43Jsd6qjHA_AoOlEd_FL7BNkLe7S6DGBiGJptT2eIP-JVS3jrlWvoCz-fyeqJamhU-lak74VCEdBg2BcwxfpXfT8hLzWqJqcoUDQ/s1600/dcc9706982b75b51ecdfc673528f82d1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr4KG4d5EFZQGUw0n0OwX6jWvUKIp11WcJLCKCYW43Jsd6qjHA_AoOlEd_FL7BNkLe7S6DGBiGJptT2eIP-JVS3jrlWvoCz-fyeqJamhU-lak74VCEdBg2BcwxfpXfT8hLzWqJqcoUDQ/s1600/dcc9706982b75b51ecdfc673528f82d1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>2016 seems like it’s going to be a good year</b>, which is good
news because I’d be lying if said I didn’t need one. You’d think I’d be over it, but readjusting from the Peace Corps continues to be an
on-going experience. One that I’m not entirely sure will ever end. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Twenty-four access to the news, Netflix and social media
hasn’t exactly done me any favors. It’s like an obsessive impulse that both
entraps and embarrasses me - I am as aware of the world’s suffering as I am the activity
on my Pinterest boards. The more I browse, the more I crave and with so much clutter in my life (and mind), it becomes harder to express gratitude, stay present and remain satisfied. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started with a sabbatical from Facebook. I realized that the internet has the tendency to create two habits - the projection of perfection (which can only be reaffirmed by others) and an unchecked meanness toward that which is different. So I dug a hole and buried my head in it, spending the month of December focusing on myself and the things things I love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why? Because I want to be more mindful of the choices I
make. Whether that be gaining control over my admittedly rampant consumerism (I love
shoes) or being more aware of the source of my food and clothing (I love the
environment), I think I have reached a truly important impasse. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life isn’t about filling up my closet or collecting
Instagram followers or proving, through likes, that I have an amazing, enviable
existence. Life is about the friends who lift me up and love me for exactly who I am (especially the
boring, joyful, miserable masterpiece that is my day-to-day). It’s about memories being the only proof of an experience because I was so present I forgot to take a photo. It's about actively engaging in the things I love and being inspired by the beauty of each moment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Emma’s Ridiculously
Simple List of Minimalist Goals (#1)</b> <br />
1.) Do the dishes by hand (every time) & make it a communal activity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2.) No phones after 6 p.m. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3.) Read at least one chapter every night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4.) Buy responsibly (socially & environmentally).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5.) Always eat dinner as a family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
None of these things are particularly difficult, but they do
take an adjustment. They are the first small step into what I hope will become a lifestyle. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
America changed while I was gone. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it certainly left me feeling very alone. My goal is to connect again, to actively create the life I want exactly where I am. And truthfully, whatever your motive may be, there’s nothing wrong with admitting
that the lives we think we want - ruled by Wi-Fi, filters and an endless supply of binge-worthy shows, sales and time-stealing apps - can sometimes be ironically empty. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So start simple. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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xx<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-18908258760743453502015-10-05T13:18:00.001-06:002016-03-04T09:36:55.205-07:00Lessons for the Modern Yogi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BrAFhWFpinHau8tX_wMDG_GS2L-jA9xVMiJUS85XiT6zECblIiEMZIQKiNhOVDx_D6TPLnaCLS6XWbu93tCuW3GUOqCiNeftjwf_xFKYLfQF89MNrXnZznfIr0IblNxiiWXabgNP0MY/s1600/determination.stone_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BrAFhWFpinHau8tX_wMDG_GS2L-jA9xVMiJUS85XiT6zECblIiEMZIQKiNhOVDx_D6TPLnaCLS6XWbu93tCuW3GUOqCiNeftjwf_xFKYLfQF89MNrXnZznfIr0IblNxiiWXabgNP0MY/s200/determination.stone_.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
It turns out that knowing oneself is infinitely harder when deadlines, bills and relationship-upkeep loom on the horizon. My passion and my patience undergo yet another reconstruction and instead of existing in the moment, I find the frequent desire to escape my life altogether. Why am I still here? I have learned to lean into my discomfort.<br />
<br />
In yoga, this is the moment we all know well - the one that has us concentrating so hard that our muscles, twitching and begging for rest, are drowned out only by the realization that sweat is beginning to sting our eyes. And, yet, we stay.<br />
<br />
Why do we dutifully follow the instructor's request to squat a little lower, bend a little deeper and breathe fully into the pain? Because we can. Because through our practice we realize that most discomfort is within our bounds to endure. It improves us. We already have the tools within, we just need to practice using them.<br />
<br />
What are these tools? Quite simply, breath and patience.<br />
<br />
We tap into concentration to find a focus and endure the discomfort. We know that digging deeper is a choice more than an ability, so we make the choice to stay put. Even when it means stepping out, losing balance or needing ample time to recover from a difficult pose, having faith that we <i>can</i> succeed pushes open the door to success.<br />
<br />
This is the whole point of yoga, really: proving that limits only exist in one's mind (and that our bodies are fully capable of carrying us through them). This is the pay-off of breathing through our absolute certainty of failure: we succeed, even when we fail.<br />
<br />
And how does this apply to real life?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
This is the difficult part. It depends on our willingness to fail outside of class, away from a soft mat and an instructor who encourages us to fall (and fall often). It depends on vulnerability. Leaning into discomfort is a terrifying choice when applied to one's life, our instinct is to escape. Like yoga, however, we must accept this feeling and breathe through it. We must allow it to pass. It takes time and practice, but it's worth it. It strengthens tenacity, both mentally and physically. It encourages the challenge of self-improvement (and leaning into the immense discomfort we find there). With each victory, each new day, we can lean a little deeper. <br />
<br />
Along your path, remember to lean in. It will get better, if only because you are getting stronger. <br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Namaste'<br />
xx </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-21396276753139013892014-06-26T10:33:00.000-06:002015-02-27T14:54:01.828-07:00The Luxury of Patience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It isn't just something Yoda talks about; patience is a luxury. It's the money-making investment most of us wish we'd made, the vacation to top off a mediocre year, the healthy meal we know we should eat but struggle to pick over the deliciously fried alternative listed to its right. <br />
<br />
We stand in lines frustrated at their pace, opt for altered food devoid of nutrition, twist our cars through close traffic and blame our accidents, our cholesterol, our anger on someone else. We get trapped in the thought that we, alone, exist in the world. We become impatient for better/faster/stronger/more, for everything inherent in mindfulness without the practice of being mindful. <br />
<br />
It came to me while I sat in traffic, unmercifully dissecting the inability of most drivers to (1) merge, (2) allow others to merge, and (3) thank those around them for any quick, ninja-like reflexes when bumpers come dangerously close to connecting. I realized that if there was any place the yogi practice of mindfulness could be applied, it was in the driver's seat of a moving vehicle.<br />
<br />
Every morning and every night, I am surrounded by people willing to risk bodily harm because traffic isn't moving fast enough in the direction they've decided to go. I even find <i>myself</i> irrationally annoyed. I've written about this before - our society's deep longing to be 'other than' (other than where we are, who we are, what we look like, who we're with, where we work). It's a presence all around us, even in our cars, and it often translates into harmful behavior.<br />
<br />
Sometimes it's an inability to sit in traffic without endangering other people, sometimes it's the choice to be unfaithful or unkind. And as I watch people react to life, watch them refuse to be active in their choices, I've realized the necessity in making small, mindful steps to pay attention, to be present in my work, to accept my monkey brain during meditation and move through my life as I do my yoga poses.<br />
<br />
Because no matter where I find myself, I am there. I spend my time there, I exist within those moments. And maybe it's not ideal (it will never be ideal), but wishing it away, rushing into <i>anything</i> else, will only recreate the impatience that led me there to begin with. Which is not to say that I shouldn't take risks, but rather that I be
mindful of the risks I take. <br />
<br />
Because I'm here. Because I'm responsible for my half. Because being present allows for the luxury of patience. Because Yoda was right - this is the nature of life. Be present. <br />
<br />
xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-23816799899693052662014-05-22T12:06:00.002-06:002016-04-15T12:14:03.237-06:0010 Things To Do to Avoid Getting Older (Once You Realize You Are, in fact, Getting Older)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Have you recently found yourself in a stable job? Signed up for Healthcare? Are you making a significant dent in your student loans? Is everything your parents said starting to make sense? <br />
<br />
Have no fear - here are ten simple steps to avoid getting older (because you aren't getting younger):<br />
<br />
1. Shake your head back and forth periodically throughout the day. Nothing screams 'young' like random, denial-fueled, emotional tantrums.<br />
<br />
2. Eat dessert at each meal. Though the privilege may be distinctly grown-up, the act - the sheer audacity against a well-working heart - will surely make you feel young again.<br />
<br />
3. Two words: Instagram. Selfies. (Make sure they are pointless and contain at least fourteen hashtags that hashtag each other. INCEPTION.)<br />
<br />
4. One word: Naps. What is a lunch break if not a self-initiated time-out spent curled impressively underneath your desk? A waste of time, that's what.<br />
<br />
5. Refuse to order anything that isn't a chicken nugget or shaped like a dinosaur. Commence dinosaur plate-war. ("RAWR. RAWR.")<br />
<br />
6. Get lost in something. I suggest the world of wizardry or a pillow fort. <br />
<br />
7. Pretend you just paid an overlord and saved the world. No one needs to know it was a credit card payment.<br />
<br />
8. The floor is lava! Oh, I'm sorry, I thought your desk was the save zone ... <br />
<br />
9. Roll down the nearest hill until you can't stand up. Nothing can get too serious if it's too wobbly to focus on. <br />
<br />
10. GO OUTSIDE. Seriously, your desk isn't doing you any favors.<br />
<br />
Sing at the top of your lungs, laugh with abandon, hug because you want to, dance because you feel like it and forget that anyone else exists in the world. Candy, Disney movies, running barefoot and the ability to plug your ears in the event of bad news. Box mazes, finger puppets, ridiculously sugary cereals that cannot possibly have any nutritional value and an imagination with the ability take you anywhere at anytime.<br />
<br />
You really are only as old as you feel, everything else is just noise.<br />
<br />
xx!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-35920016319384624162014-04-28T11:14:00.002-06:002015-10-12T10:09:57.866-06:00Of Loss and Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I still remember the day I met Dani. She was a tiny thing, but only in body. She was fascinating and beautiful and I regarded her with curious awe. She spoke of ballet and neuroscience, of an obsession with Dr. Pepper and McDonald's, of Korea and Haiti and her journey, just beginning, at Peace Corps Ghana. And I thought to myself, with an ounce of jealousy that I wasn't enjoying Dr. Pepper <i>or</i> McDonald's in that moment, that this tiny woman and I were going to be friends.<br />
<br />
Today marks the one year anniversary of her death, a life given in service and taken away by Malaria. My prediction was right, by the way. She became a sister to me - bonded by music and dance and a streak of independence that left us drooling after Beyonce and declaring one another a 'boss.' As in, '<i>If he ain't steppin' up, drop it like a boss</i>.' We were fierce.<br />
<br />
I remember her death like it were yesterday, clamoring to keep myself together and failing miserably. I remember planning her memorial and showing up with endless cakes and cupcakes because, I half-joked, I was baking my feelings. It wasn't the baking that helped, of course, but the loving support of countless people Dani had managed to touch. The sorrow we felt was deep, but the love we felt much deeper. The day we said goodbye was the day each of us began a new life dedicated to living a little more like Dani every day.<br />
<br />
Without a doubt, Dani changed me; she changed everyone she met. She was the kind of person I was grateful to know in life, whose passing wasn't necessary to the recognition of her importance. I wish I'd had more time, that I'd been able to visit her in Atlanta and witness what would have been an amazing life. I would have liked to have grown old with her; I celebrated three birthdays in Ghana and Dani was there for each one. Whether she was writing me into the Ghana AIDS Project constitution or explaining the finer points of twerking, she was always a surprise - a delightful, thoughtful, intelligent role model for anyone within arm's reach.<br />
<br />
In her memory I strive to have compassion at all times, to greet everyone I meet with love and laughter, to dance when I want to dance and to own my strength without apology. We used to talk about forgiveness and empathy, about the heart's struggle with the ego, and now that those conversations exist only in memory I try, each day, to be the person we discussed so often. She managed to make me a better human being, to inspire me to live up to my potential, and her legacy, taken and held by those who loved and knew her, only continues to grow.<br />
<br />
My thoughts are with her family today, with each of us facing the bittersweet combination of welling eyes and quivering smiles. Sadness comes in waves, but mostly I feel love - an incredible lightness of being - because she continues to shape a world she left much better. She lives through us, through our actions and our words, through our endless dedication to her memory, which means that she still lives. She may only be one tiny, Dr. Pepper drinking, independent, Beyonce loving part of me, but she's there always.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqC1zQEozNq-sF9m0bFMWbiMJz2daGitkunHQfiMf5jbpI99Kr7yJ3aV5XV0qqvErNUU91Z1JQYYZbo2WXQ_vwPtix5XCCDF99sd9knexaM3zclZR8rMLnD-a4AkOfV0AyDZfUbGQrWU/s1600/10245491_10201786447399368_3312816375723133609_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqC1zQEozNq-sF9m0bFMWbiMJz2daGitkunHQfiMf5jbpI99Kr7yJ3aV5XV0qqvErNUU91Z1JQYYZbo2WXQ_vwPtix5XCCDF99sd9knexaM3zclZR8rMLnD-a4AkOfV0AyDZfUbGQrWU/s1600/10245491_10201786447399368_3312816375723133609_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We miss you, baby girl.</div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-16492632582313941552014-04-10T13:15:00.002-06:002016-03-04T09:49:42.844-07:007 Things Yoga Taught Me About Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Every day people flock into yoga class and they seek. They seek relaxation, they seek detoxification and they most definitely seek an enviable beach body. I speak from experience. When I decided to get my teaching certificate I did it because I wanted to get paid for a work out I love. It was, quite simply, a physical regime.<br />
<br />
As it turns out, the course wasn't about poses or teaching sequences, but approaching yoga as a <i>practice</i>. I was deemed certifiable, but I'm not going to approach my first class as expected. In honor of the practice, I'd like to challenge your understanding of a session and share my first lesson with you here. No poses, no meditation, no cute spandex outfits with secret pockets and impressive lift - just a few ways yoga is actually applicable to everyday life.<br />
<br />
1. Show up:<br />
<br />
It might sound painfully obvious, but it's often the hardest choice to make. If you want to improve your health, you have to show up; if you want to switch careers, you have to show up; if you want to change your mindset, you have show up. You have to be willing to take leaps, hold yourself accountable and face your fears without giving in to a very strong urge to run. Quite literally it means making the choice to walk through the door and attend yoga class. When your mind is ready to follow it will show up, too.<br />
<br />
2. Be kind to yourself:<br />
<br />
We call this the practice of non-violence. It asks you to listen to your body, to be aware of your limits and to honor your 'edge.' Yoga isn't about competing with the life-size Gumby to your left (or feeling superior to the inflexible beginner to your right); your practice is already perfect. If your reason for yoga is to impress everyone in the class then you're not practicing yoga, you are practicing the art of approval. Of course, everyone's capabilities are different and some yogis can do amazing things, but if you push yourself to the point of breaking then you will be distracted from your potential.<br />
<br />
3. Accept possibility:<br />
<br />
Anything can happen and it isn't always what you expect. Some days you will walk in and find a substitute teacher. Maybe a certain pose makes you feel emotional or reach farther into your stretch (or maybe you aren't feeling flexible at all). Dwelling on these details will throw off an entire yoga session and you cannot reach peace through dwelling. Being flexible in yoga isn't just a literal concept. If you can accept change when it occurs you're being offered a unique opportunity to learn more about yourself and your body. The ego always wants control, but the yogi understands there is none.<br />
<br />
4. Breathe:<br />
<br />
Breathing is something we take for granted, but it is the most important healing aspect of yoga. The average person's lungs has the capacity for 6-7 liters of air, but the average amount taken in per breath is one. Studies on meditation and breathing show that it lowers heart rate, lowers blood pressure, improves brain function and reduces stress. When breath and movement are synchronized we refer to it as a dance. Breathing helps focus the mind, push through pain and brings clarity to the body. It is the key, the lock and the safe.<br />
<br />
5. Be present:<br />
<br />
Though being present is directly related to showing up they are not the same. When you show up to class there is a large margin for error. Sometimes your brain will go everywhere, but with you to yoga. You won't pay attention to your breathing, you won't acknowledge what the poses are doing for you and you won't feel relaxed at all. Though you are perfect in your practice, even in its flaws, wouldn't it be nice to use that time to disconnect from the world and honor yourself? People are rarely present, but once you practice the art of being mindful you will find that it is a gift.<br />
<br />
6. Let go:<br />
<br />
We carry a lot of things around - pressure, expectation, guilt, anxiety, anger, disappointment, loneliness ... it's exhausting. Our pressures weigh us down, they create a disconnect between the the body and mind that can, quite literally, shorten the length and happiness of our lives. It may take years of practice and it may seem like letting go is as remote to you as the ability to walk on water, but when the day arrives and you find yourself ready to be completely vulnerable to that tiny moment, your yoga practice will be realized. You will be free.<br />
<br />
7. It's all about Savasana:<br />
<br />
Some people think Savasana is a waste of time, that it's awkward and intrusive. Lying down in the middle of a room, exposing your heart to the sky and dedicating five minutes to being silent with yourself is kind of terrifying. We spend our days tweeting, scrolling through Facebook posts and distracting ourselves from this exact act. We no longer know how to<i> </i>be with ourselves, but I promise you that Savasana is<i> the</i> moment. It is the culmination of your hour, the moment of honesty and the perfect opportunity to explore each each of these lessons in one simultaneous moment. It is your happy place.<br />
<br />
I guess what I'm trying to say is that yoga has become my life choice. It follows me everywhere I go and sometimes I find myself in the act of yoga without ever striking a pose. Sure, there are physical benefits, but it has so much more potential than a beach body. Be open to that potential, and the next time you're in class - even if it is your first - think of me, newly bonafide, and take a few steps toward turning your activity into a philosophy.<br />
<br />
Namaste<br />
xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-51640202965216948082014-01-16T16:49:00.004-07:002016-04-15T12:14:24.729-06:00You Don't Have to Join the Peace Corps to be Vulnerable.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've encountered many wounded hearts in my lifetime; in fact, I owned one. And while I experienced small moments of freedom, clarity and gratitude, I often observed my heart shrinking away from great risk. Especially when it came to love.<br />
<br />
The human instinct to protect itself manifests from our most painful experiences. It's meant to keep us functioning, to keep us moving through each betrayal, but sometimes we shut out the world. We stubbornly believe that our isolation, whether it be physical, spiritual or emotional, will be better than any alternative. We punish ourselves and our pain quickly turns into fear. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I tell you to be vulnerable, I know it isn't easy. It requires
forgiveness, patience and honest self-assessment. It can be painful. Committing to kindness and compassion, admitting to our own mistakes and forgiving others for theirs is against our nature. We must forgive our fear. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There will be failure. We will not always be a perfect example of vulnerability, compassion or patience, but we must keep trying. In the end it will do something incredible – it will open our hearts. And as our hearts open, as we adopt the possibility of each moment without expectation, our ability to love and receive love will be limitless. We will find joy and adventure, perfection in imperfection, and that happiness lived inside us all along.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Yes, the world will still be dark and people will continue to hurt
each other. We might even risk seeing all of that through a completely vulnerable heart, but that’s okay. The darkness will
contrast the light, the pain will demand more love, and while
it will not be easy it will be worth it. Why?<br />
<br />
Because you deserve love. Because compassion is not a weakness. Because vulnerability is the new black and the walls we build aren't worth the upkeep. Maybe you are not ready today, but one day you will be and you will not be alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
xx</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-18351549181892558642013-12-10T18:51:00.001-07:002016-04-15T12:14:43.525-06:00The Power of One Person<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If there is one thing you should know about me it is that I have an incredibly strong sense of justice. And though I realize the world is a complicated place, mired in shades of grey, I think it is important to contribute to that world in a positive way and take every chance to make it better.<br />
<br />
I saw many difficult things in the Peace Corps. Not on the news or written in articles, but in front of me every day. As a 'cultural agent' I was forced to combat them creatively because my acceptance in the community was delicate. I was an outsider, a woman and I was often told that I simply didn't understand. I didn't understand that domestic violence was expected as an inevitability of marriage, that sexism was an element of a 'properly functioning' society, or that rape was a simple truth of life.<br />
<br />
Of course, I could not accept or ignore these things so I fought them carefully. There was purpose in my work, an ability to do something in the world because my position invited change. But it didn't stop there.<br />
<br />
I came back and I continued to see the same social wrongs - things international campaigns are started for, but seem to be tacitly ignored at home. America avoided eye contact, but I had become sensitive. I possessed a greater awareness of our own shortcomings and it became terribly frustrating to have my focus and my passions unmet.<br />
<br />
With the death of someone like Nelson Mandela, and with so many people acknowledging his influence on the world, I hope he will serve as continued inspiration. I hope he will not be someone spoken of as an anomaly, There are still great injustices in the world and many of them occur right here in America. Sometimes to simply acknowledge them, to look them in the eye and recognize them as they are is enough to start social change and demand a better future.<br />
<br />
Of the most valuable lessons I learned in the Peace Corps, I learned the power of one. One person. And that person is you. Because it's not always in someone else's hands to lead. You can inspire, too. And by changing one person, affecting one life, you can create an echo that changes many. You must simply use that beautiful voice and put purpose to that brilliant, human mind.<br />
<br />
When we are faced with the death of those who represent the best in us it often shocks us into remembering all of the things we wish we could be. Mandela's death reminded me that it is a possibility for all of us - one that doesn't necessarily involve joining the Peace Corps or becoming an internationally recognized president. As I struggle to find my place again, to combine the two paths of my life, I hope that Nelson Mandela and perhaps (very humbly) I can remind you that we all have this potential. We all carry this light. To use it is a choice, not a fate. <br />
<br />
Set light to the night.<br />
<br />
xx<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-36801956573633579292013-11-28T11:51:00.002-07:002016-04-15T12:15:43.496-06:00A Few of My Universal Truths<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(Because spending three years in introspection has its perks ...)<br />
<br />
1. People deserve to be loved:<br />
And I mean everyone. Whether they're asking for change, serving you drinks or happen to be your closest friend - loving other people brings you closer to loving yourself. (And what's not to love about that?)<br />
<br />
2. Love yourself:<br />
Be your own biggest fan. It's not vain, it's learning to spend the rest of your life with someone you truly enjoy. (And truly enjoying the person you'll be spending the rest of your life with.)<br />
<br />
3. It's okay to be vulnerable:<br />
In fact, it's pretty brave. Opening yourself up to the world is not something you will likely ever regret. You will not break, I promise; you will learn to bend.<br />
<br />
4. Always do the right thing, even if it's the hard thing:<br />
You will never regret doing the right thing. It conveys respect and deference to any number of situations, persons and emotional truths; I only ask that you do it with kindness in your heart.<br />
<br />
5. Happiness is a choice (and it's a damn good one).<br />
<br />
6. Be honest, always:<br />
Coupled with kindness, love or respect, it is a rare quality and it is refreshing. We have too little of it in our lives and too many expectations as a result. And people will respect you for it because even if you act a fool, you'll have the courage to admit it (and the forethought to apologize).<br />
<br />
7. Never, ever, turn down a dance. Ever.<br />
<br />
8. Smile often and mean it.<br />
<br />
9. Find optimism:<br />
There is an art to finding the silver lining in situations. It takes practice before it becomes habit and it takes effort, but if you can find that sliver of light you can hold onto it in the darkest of times (and one day it might be your saving grace).<br />
<br />
10. A good life will make you work for it:<br />
It's like any good catch; you have to work hard to earn and deserve it, to keep it and make it your personal best. Living a good life is just as much your responsibility as it is your circumstance. Own it.<br />
<br />
11. Feed your passions: <br />
Take adventures, soul-search, make your existence mean something to someone other than yourself; leap into thin air and learn to love your life.<br />
<br />
12. Hug more (it doesn't count unless it's at least ten seconds).<br />
<br />
13. Love more:<br />
And do it unconditionally. It heals wounds, it fortifies, it is every question and every answer; if there's one thing Ghana taught me, it is unconditional, unbound love and, with it, forgiveness.<br />
<br />
14. Forgive:<br />
The world can be a heavy place when anger and guilt take up their watch on your shoulders. It may take work and it may be painful, but being able to let go of that pain will free up so much space in your heart that you won't know what to do with it.<br />
<br />
15. Be kind to yourself:<br />
Psychologically, we only allow other people to treat us as badly as we treat ourselves; the only problem with this is that most of us insult ourselves often. Even if it's something simple, like calling yourself stupid for a small mistake, it is a terrible habit. Make kindness your habit. Say one kind thing into the mirror every day and start to believe it.<br />
<br />
16. Laugh often. And laugh from your toes.<br />
<br />
17. Cry more (because it's okay to feel).<br />
<br />
18. Listen more:<br />
In fact, make it your goal to become a <i>good</i> listener; because only good things can come from being a better partner/friend/child/colleague/person. And if someone is willing to open up to you, you should respect that.<br />
<br />
19. Make the people you love a priority:<br />
It's easy to become distracted in a world where an app exists for every possible interaction, question and desire, but an app won't come over after a break up and it won't help you plan a baby shower or dress up with you for a late-night cult-classic at the local movie theater. Appreciate those people, love on those people like every day is their last day and you will learn what it means to live without regret.<br />
<br />
20. Say thank you more often: <br />
And don't wait for a national holiday to do it. Find something to be grateful for every day, make that appreciation known, rinse and repeat. Simple.<br />
<br />
Happy Thanksgiving everybody,<br />
xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-65690122468737817222013-11-12T15:00:00.003-07:002016-04-15T12:19:44.318-06:00Leaving the Peace Corps Behind ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Re-acclimating to normal life is going to be more difficult than I thought, but not for the reasons you would assume.<br />
<br />
I want to start by saying that leaving anything 'behind' is a myth. Experiences shape you, they affect you long after they end, and they usually take up residence without your notice. They will shift opinions, change behaviors, and continue to pepper your vocabulary with their influence. It's evolution in the simplest form.<br />
<br />
The way we close our service brings the expectation that once our service has 'closed' it has ended; it is a chapter in a book that is set firmly in the past. We are left with anecdotes, pictures, and the kind of wistful memories shared with other friends struggling to reintegrate. We end up focusing on the separation of experiences, but why do we feel so strange if our experiences are so separate?<br />
<br />
The Peace Corps, by nature, forces people out of their comfort zones. It forces relationships to be made and middle ground to be found. We recognize that, despite the many annoyances of culture shock, our expectations (based on a context completely separate from our current experiences) are unfair. We become compassionate and forgive the faults we see because we understand that our job is not to change, but to affect change. It is an important distinction. And so we create relationships, start conversations, and try to empower those within our adopted cultures to make the changes <i>they</i> wish to see.<br />
<br />
It is an art and it is incredibly difficult to do. It takes a level of self-awareness that is hard to adopt, but is necessary when one exists so far out of context; most of the time we do it without thinking.<br />
<br />
Having adopted a new form of interpersonal interaction we return to America changed, but we aren't used to this. We aren't used to applying obvious cultural differences to a place we call home. We assume we understand America completely and this perceived comfort zone comes with expectations that no longer apply. We are different; we operate at a different level; we see things from an outside perspective. We observe because, for two years, observation meant the difference between success and failure and, suddenly, we start to see things we didn't recognize before the Peace Corps. It can be incredibly frustrating.<br />
<br />
The thought that we 'close' our service, end a chapter and move forward, is a misrepresentation of our experience and the lessons that we worked so hard to apply. It isn't a 'separate' experience, it doesn't exist somewhere outside of us - what we learned about were people; what we did was adapt.<br />
<br />
What I've found over the last two weeks is that I notice more; I notice things about people that probably always existed but didn't seem out of the ordinary when it worked within my context. And it seems difficult to fit those people<i> </i>back into my life - people who no longer see the world like I do, who have faults I clearly recognize, who, astonishingly enough, require the lesson I learned in Africa to be applied to them in America. It's disconcerting; it takes patience.<br />
<br />
And it's not that America has changed and become more disappointing, but that I've changed and have become more aware. And I have to remind myself that it would be incredibly unfair not to apply the universal understanding and compassion I adopted in the Peace Corps to my life in America, or to idolize Ghana and my experiences when I know, full well, that people everywhere have the exact same potential to impress and disappoint.<br />
<br />
I cannot run away from these things, they will exist wherever I go. I can, however, accept that I will always have a unique perspective and that it's okay that America isn't perfect. My Peace Corps experience is not somewhere behind me because it lives at my side. I will notice things now, and some of them will disappoint, but maybe - just maybe - I can begin to apply my experience as a volunteer and affect change where it really matters: in America, in my context.<br />
<br />
So, happy hunting, my fellow change agents and remember to keep an open mind.<br />
<br />
xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-47178797786045555552013-11-05T13:19:00.002-07:002016-04-15T12:21:59.519-06:00Haunted Streets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I rarely ran into my past in Ghana. Even Facebook, with its endless possibilities, was avoidable; containable. I could focus. I could assess and improve; I could quantify. And I could do it all with the clarity of a safe distance, which I now understand was a unique opportunity.<br />
<br />
I've been home for just over one week and there are so many stories to catch up on, so many faces to see (both the anticipated and the unexpected). Some of them belong to distant paths, ancient things; others walk a faint trail, their paths just emerging. It turns out to be a very large pile to sift through, to organize in my mind, to find a place for in my life - a life I'm only beginning to figure out again.<br />
<br />
This is obviously a work in progress, the attempted management of a readjustment they warned me about. Except it's not exactly the kind of culture shock I thought it would be; turns out I can totally handle incredibly high-tech bathrooms, grocery stores (to a degree), and the ability to understand every conversation around me without needing to listen in like a lonely ex-pat creeper. What seems to be the struggle now is re-fitting all of the pieces. Actually, just plain fitting in.<br />
<br />
And I guess it sounds silly to admit that my biggest problem is finding room for all of the people interested in catching up, in showing appreciation for the things I've done, even if briefly. I guess it's just the fact that things simultaneously seem to have changed completely and not at all, that in the same week I can go without recognizing a single face to recognizing entirely too many to process. It's apparently no easy feat to step out of your life for three years and walk back in, having had so many unbelievably important, but completely separate experiences. It's a little like waking from a dream.<br />
<br />
These are my haunted streets. All ghosts welcome.<br />
<br />
xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-75164002100297318002013-10-21T17:12:00.002-06:002013-11-05T13:27:24.863-07:00My Biggest Fear <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Sometimes people disappoint. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They have their reasons, of course. We live in a world
shaped by emotional turmoil and uncertainty. It's a reactionary world and it can
make us unforgiving, ungrateful, and embittered. It becomes easy to quit people,
to build walls around steadily shrinking hearts, and to inflict our pain upon
others without discrimination. We forget that people deserve dignity and that kindness isn't a commodity to be bargained for (or an act made
with the expectation of return). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Carl Jung said, “Everything that irritates us about others
can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” In other words, every impatience,
every painful infliction from the outside, is a mirror offering us an opportunity.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I consider this quote, I realize that what he’s talking
about is empathy – the ability to relate to the pain we encounter, to its origin. Because if we look deep enough, if we can dig down into that pit of compassion we
all carry, we can confront our own souls with honesty. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It isn't always easy. Compassion, empathy and patience are
all acts of practice. They take time to master; each must be a conscious
choice, not only reserved for those closest to us but applied to the
briefest of interactions. Only in this can we learn what it means to love
unconditionally, to cure the pain we see in the world - a pain once inflicted
upon and by us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I left Ghana, left my position as a volunteer trained in
cultural understanding and mindfulness, I feared that I would somehow lose
that; that, in a world where Twitter, Instagram and the instant gratification
of Facebook exists, my compassion would fall short of the life I once knew. I
wanted to reflect on my time as a volunteer without idolizing the third world or damning the first. I wanted to change problems I saw through my understanding of them, not my disgust. Because, I thought,
if I couldn't use my third world experiences in the first world, 'my' world, than I obviously hadn't spent
them well ...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The world I see today is seriously lacking in empathy and
patience. And if you’re looking to do some good, take a moment to look into a mirror - whether it be a he or a she, a Christian or a Muslim, recklessly angry or
smiling like a child watching bubbles float into the sky – forgive them, forget
yourself for a minute, and remember that they might actually <i>need</i> your love more than you know (and that giving your love is never a sign of weakness). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Make the world
more beautiful. Make your experiences count.</div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">xx</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-41534300426780032332013-09-29T14:18:00.001-06:002013-09-29T14:33:46.227-06:00I Believe In You.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When you stop - when you take a moment to admire the view, to feel the texture of the city, to smell the air and the history and the life teeming around you, to hear the buzz, the heartbeat, the electricity within you - you'll suddenly find, once you've grown used to the silence, once you've allowed yourself to slow your pace, to put your phone down and disconnect, to look up at the picture you're so keen to take, that the world is big. The world is so very big.<br />
<br />
I think our generation suffers from a peculiar affliction, the affliction of too many options; too many things to see, too many places to visit, too many social websites to share on (with too many friends to share with). It makes us indecisive, it makes us nervous. Maybe it makes us think we aren't doing enough, cannot possibly ever catch up or succeed or feel satisfied.We consume, we want more, we move at a pace that won't allow us to feel disappointment or regret, nervousness or failure, sadness, fear, listlessness ...<br />
<br />
Rome was the most beautiful place in the world, I loved it. And then I loved Greece, and Santorini became the most beautiful place in the world. Both of these things are true - believing one doesn't negate the other - and even if I must remind myself to be mindful, to be present, to <i>watch</i> the sunset I see in front of me, to <i>taste</i> the food I'm eating, to <i>love</i> the people around me no matter who they are, I am determined to live my life, to love my life. I suppose losing people does that to you - reminds you every day of your luck, of your chance to do something wonderful, something unique, something meaningful in the world. <br />
<br />
So what will you do? How will you make today count? What beauty will you see? Because the biggest leap is making the choice to jump; it's the hardest part of the day, the only thing that keeps most of us from living our dreams, from taking risks and being proud to fail, from closing our eyes and trusting the judgment, the instinct, of our own two feet.<br />
<br />
Just try it; stop and take a moment too see the beauty around you (because I see it in you).<br />
<br />
xx<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-37447443166642657582013-09-04T08:32:00.003-06:002014-03-04T10:29:54.429-07:00Things I'll Miss in Ghana<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</div>
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</div>
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1. African exclamations: <br />
The common
exclamations of surprise (<i>EY!</i>),
dismay (<i>Ohh! Ohohoh!</i>), happiness (<i>Heh heh HEYYYYY!</i>), disappointment (<i>insert clicking noise here</i>),
understanding (<i>insert clicking noise here</i>),
or agreement (<i>eh-HEH!</i>) are identical everywhere. Which means that I always know the crowd’s mood no matter
where I am (or what language I don’t understand).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2. Eating with my hands. No explanation necessary ...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3. Random strangers greeting me and immediately asking me to
marry them:<br />
Call me crazy, but I’m probably going to miss being immediately popular without any effort. It’s not every day I roll up covered in dirt and find at least
three men willing to court me, buy me cattle and marry me immediately …</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4. The love – absolute and enduring love – of taglines.<br />
People in Ghana use them in conversation (<i>Hey,
O’broni! It’s nice to be nice!</i>), deck out their cars (<i>No Food for the lazy man</i>), name their stores (<i>God’s time is the best time</i>), name their children (<i>Alex Born-Great</i>), and even tag their taglines
(<i>Be Your Best: A Man’s Beer … Be the Best
Man</i>). I love it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6. Goats. <br />
Particularly grungy city goats that are a little off their hoofed
rockers. I love them. I love goat.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
7. Baby Back:<br />
And I’m not talking about junk in the trunk, though having some of
that is convenient when you’re trying to attach a nugget to your
back with two yards of fabric. Best accessory ever.</div>
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<br /></div>
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8. F*ck it: Babies.<br />
And the ability to hold, steal and play with them without being on some
neighborhood watch list.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
7. Cheap travel: <br />
As inconvenient as a transport system with no schedule can be, it’s a cheap life experience. And what’s not to love about a beat up, rusty old van with
no windows and a rope holding its doors together? Exactly: you’re in
Africa. Shut up and enjoy the scenery.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
10. Drive-by shopping:<br />
I cannot get over being able to buy whatever I want, anywhere I am, off of someone’s head. It’s ingenious. </div>
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<br /></div>
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11. Dancing everywhere.
If you know me at all, you know this also needs no explanation.</div>
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<br /></div>
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12. Being a celebrity.<br />
Sure it can get tiresome being constantly visible, but I’m never lost or alone.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
13. Being able to crash any meeting, party or
celebration.<br />
Stumble across a wedding? Here’s a front row seat! Elder’s meeting? Sounds like you guys were looking to hear about family planning! Are you lost? No problem! I'll take you to lunch, first, then we'll find your destination! It's awesome.</div>
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<br /></div>
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14. Hand washing everything:<br />
I’m not kidding. It’s a great excuse for nice arms and a strong back when
there’s no gym in sight.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15. Carrying things on my head:<br />
It is <i>amazing</i> what some people can carry on
their heads. Seriously. I once saw a lady carrying five different sized
bowls, filled with charcoal, and stacked into a tower on her head. She just casually walked by. No big deal.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
n 16. Clothes piles.<br />
It’s like thrift shopping, but your sifting through piles on the ground. Did I
mention I love shopping?</div>
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<br /></div>
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21. British chocolate everywhere. (British everything everywhere.) </div>
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<br /></div>
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22. The amazing sense of fashion:<br />
Ghanaians are impeccable. They know how to keep whites white and clean up like
it’s nobody’s business. While I’m stumbling around looking like Raggedy Anne,
they constantly look fabulous. </div>
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<br /></div>
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23. Making things from other things:<br />
I wish I had a photo album of the amazing recycled toys that children make.
Everything is reusable. Ignore the fact that there’s a terrible amount
of plastic everywhere and think about the fact that a few old
tin cans, a small box and a few nails can make a perfectly sufficient toy car. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
24. The stars. <br />
The stars in the village were so beautiful they were distracting. I'm definitely going to miss the stars ...</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-52863461765262144302013-08-23T02:44:00.003-06:002015-09-02T10:01:56.448-06:00What Ghana Means to Me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lessons.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some are learned from study, from the direction and paths of those before us; others are learned by doing, they happen once the books are shelved and feet start moving. What Ghana meant to me is the difference between studying and living. And while my life
continues, while my experiences never truly end, I find myself leaving Ghana
and starting anew. (If there were ever a time for retrospection, I guess this is
it.)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Peace Corps is a tough gig. We join to change
the world, to make it a better place, to leave something behind worthy of remembrance. Once we realize it’s not that easy (or quantifiable), we
spend two years chasing lofty, pre-Peace Corps dreams. Nothing is enough, there's always something more to be done, that <i>should</i> be done. It isn't until we're leaving that we realize just how successful we actually were and that maybe we did enough. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The Peace Corps gave me the opportunity to legitimately
change people’s lives. And not in the ‘random acts of kindness’ way, but with purpose and clarity. Whether it
be successful projects or personal relationships, the fact that I directly
affected positive change in anyone’s life is quite possibly the most amazing, humbling
thing I've ever experienced. That kind of responsibility, coupled with that
kind of trust, changes a person; it changed me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m stronger; I learned about sacrifice and hardship.
There were days when I wanted to pack it in, settle into a comfortable
loneliness and question why I ever became a volunteer in the first place. I found courage. I found adventure and I found pride; in myself, in my intentions, and in the heart I was willing to put into the work I wanted to do. I learned to trust and I
learned to forgive when that trust was broken. I learned the difference between
empathy and sympathy, the truth behind respecting and loving others as I love
myself.<br />
<br />
I learned to love myself. I allowed myself to be an inspiration,
found the balance between believing in myself and accepting failure without
losing that belief. And as I opened my heart I found it easier to accept the people around me. I began to experience the world like a child. I found the root of life and I climbed its tree. I found laughter. I found soul. I experienced an incredible opportunity to live the life I wanted, to experience another culture intimately, to ask
questions and discover motivations, to include myself in the conversation and make a tiny, Emma-sized difference in the world. I found a life I could be proud of.</div>
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<br /></div>
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At the close, I'm the kind of happy found in purpose and
fulfillment. This means, of course, that I am also forever doomed. It’s like an itch
that can’t be scratched - a nagging need for movement and adventure; a need for the
satisfaction found out there in the world. I
found<i> </i>my passion. I’m flexible and I’m resilient and I love. The Peace Corps taught me to learn; Ghana taught me to be happy.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Who I am today is grateful. I met the most amazing people and earned the privilege to call them friends. I found my voice, I found my vision and I gained much more than I gave. All of these things will always be with me, permanently inked on muscle and tendon and vein, and I wouldn't change it for the world.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Ayekoo, Ghana. We've done well.<br />
xx </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-81091909854224253182013-08-06T07:42:00.002-06:002013-11-12T23:32:52.368-07:00A Life Worth Living<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I only have three weeks until I'm no longer a Peace Corps Volunteer. I'd like to let that sink in for a minute.<br />
<br />
(insert minute here)<br />
<br />
Understanding, of course, that I'll always 'be' a Peace Corps Volunteer, this realization - captured in one, simple sentence above - carries at least a dozen different emotions; and though I'm not one for abrupt endings, I'm pretty sure a lot of things are about to change abruptly.<br />
<br />
My way of coping (read: ignoring) is to obsessively plan the details of my next travels and, like an excited child, I find it hard to sit still for very long. At any given moment I'm prone to random, public outbursts of excitement which include, but aren't limited to, the type of dancing I usually keep to myself and a wistful smile, put on my face by wine sipping, obviously touristy daydreams. It's not that I'm ready to leave Ghana behind, but I'm excited to continue my adventure.<br />
<br />
Ghana is the home of over 70 different languages and at least as many different cultural practices and beliefs. While I admit that this became normal for me, I recognize that Ghana offered me over three years of unique daily experiences. It's why, even at its most boring, my time spent here was worth dozens of blogs, 36 paged letters, and a ridiculous amount of photos. With a new adventure at my fingertips (and each jump of my heart bringing it closer to my throat) I think I may have found the secret to a life well lived. A life well-lived is one spent in exploration.<br />
<br />
What I think most people don't realize is that a life spent in exploration can be spent anywhere. Being in the Peace Corps simply made the adventures, the diversity, more obvious. I felt obligated to experience the world around me. It was my duty to share those experiences simply because I was having them. It was part gratitude, part curiosity. I appreciated my life here because it was unique and it came from a completely different perspective, but who's to say that needs to stop?<br />
<br />
Traveling to Europe is obviously exciting; it's not every day I get to run my hands along terribly dirty, terribly ancient buildings, but (along with all of the other things I managed to find in Ghana) I found that I've rediscovered my curiosity. Too many people forget, as they get older, as the bills pile up, as life gets more complicated, that the world is interactive. It's meant to be enjoyed. As three years slipped past me, I realized that it's not enough to survive each day; we must engage in the world around us, appreciate our capacity for helping and learning and loving, find something exciting about its smallest detail.<br />
<br />
Before I moved to Ghana I was in love the idea of traveling, but it was still an idea; I was determined to become a citizen of the world, an active member, an avid explorer, an ever-lover. Somewhere along the way I succeeded. Maybe I'm not a perfect citizen - there are days when I ignore the world, cuddle up with a good book and fall in-love with a fictional universe - but I'm here. I'm here and I'm committed. I've put a ring on it - a metaphorical ring in the form of tiny, plane-shaped carbon footprints that, I hope, will lead me anywhere. Yep, I said it: anywhere.<br />
<br />
You see, it doesn't matter where I end up as long as I'm doing something I love and actively exploring what the world has to offer (which happens to be something I love). When I joined the Peace Corps I took a giant leap into a life that offered something new every day. What I realized was that grand gestures weren't necessary; every moment anywhere has something new and exciting to offer. <br />
<br />
Shift your focus. Explore and stay curious.<br />
A life well-lived is as simple as that.<br />
xx<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-31866461025625700802013-07-22T07:12:00.004-06:002016-04-15T12:34:51.664-06:00What the Peace Corps Taught Me about Myself<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first thing the Peace Corps taught me about myself was that we were strangers, acquaintances really. My heart and imagination, my resilience and motivations,
my capabilities and my limits – everything I thought I knew about myself – were slowly illuminated. Like the moon arching its way across a darkened sky, I changed constantly.<br />
<br />
Until I moved to Africa I hadn't spent very much time alone. I’d spent time with myself, of course, but always within
the context of a culture I knew and understood - a world I belonged to even when
I rebelled against it. In the Peace Corps I became a true outsider, a player to be
watched with curiosity, humor and, sometimes, distrust. A distinct line existed
between me and Ghana. I was isolated.<br />
<br />
There’s nothing quite like trying to be a part of something
foreign, trying very hard to understand and adopt it, while
existing entirely outside of it. My
ability to make friends, something I’d never really struggled with, became a
most coveted skill. I was tolerant and respectful, I forgave people for their
shortcomings and attempted to understand them. It was my first true
application of empathy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I struggled to understand cultural differences,
some of them tragic and misguided, I became acutely aware of my own shortcomings and my limited understanding of the world. Some days were distracting, but others were blissful and as things became
normal and I accepted my post as an outsider, I was struck by moments of clarity and mindfulness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In this clarity I started to
witness myself. I began to <i>live</i> with
myself. I watched the slow crawl of growth, the strengthening of skill, a new sense of comfort that stretched its muscles within my mind. I was like a solar light - warmed and energized by my work
in the day, humming with creativity and awareness at night. I was happy and
it was a beacon, a lighthouse for the darkened nights (and there were some very
dark nights). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent two years spelunking, traversing and climbing - sometimes blindly - though the landscape of my mind. I hung from cliffs, stared
into chasms and found deep caverns - one spilling into the other in an endless
exploration of me. I called out to the echoes and found myself lost. I circled the same
passageways and realizing they were things I would have to revisit
again and again. I began my quest to leave no path un-mapped. Closing my eyes I watched my thoughts dance to the beat of my heart. I
followed them to their origin, saw them to their end and like the foreign
world around me, sought to understand them because I never truly had. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I found was an incredible capacity for love - the
largeness of my heart and the rate of its (continued) growth is still very hard to explain,
harder still to measure. I developed a sense of
empathy that surprises me, reminds me of myself when I am liable to forget. I realized my own resilience, though it took the death of a friend to realize just <i>how</i> resilient I’d become. For a time I
seemed to fall very far, invisible and lost among the ruins of my grief. Though the pain is still
strong, I know this land and I have managed to find
solid ground again.<br />
<br />
I am constantly reminded that my creativity, my ability to adapt and my willingness to
learn - brought on the backs of ants and diligently carved from my own
determination - allow me to do anything. My efforts, my optimism and my absolute stubbornness will lead me there eventually.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The title of this blog is actually quite wrong. It would be more accurate to tell you that the Peace Corps introduced me to myself and I can finally say that I am beginning to know her. She changes and shifts beneath my hands and feet, but I
am no longer afraid to explore. I guess you could call the
Peace Corps the most difficult trust fall to accomplish; I didn't end up catching anyone but myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
xx</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-35796222400172109882013-06-19T07:38:00.003-06:002015-02-27T15:37:03.275-07:0030 Things That Would Be Totally Creepy in America, but are Completely Acceptable in the Peace Corps<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
1. <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Ringtones: <br />Yes, my ringtone is a child’s laughter. No, I do not have children – what's your problem?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">2. </span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Bad carpentry:<br />I regularly walk into my kitchen to find every cabinet and drawer hanging open. Calm down, it's not Sixth Sense, it's just that nothing in my house was built at a ninety-degree angle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">3. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Giving candy
to random children: <br />It's honestly the only way to get them to leave. I regret nothing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">4. Taking selfies with random children:<br />No, I don't know this child; yes, I just gave him candy. NEW PROFILE PICTURE!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">5. Carrying a </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">large
wooden penis and several condoms, just in case: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">What? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">6. Children at the windows:<br />Oh, no - the children found us. Quickly, everyone hide! Shhhhhh ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">7. People knocking at the door:<br />And following up with a peep at the window.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">8. That one dude calling ten times in a row from three different phone numbers:<br />Ignore my phone call, will you? I'll show you.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">9. The number of</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> white people who can and will be randomly directed to your door: <br />Oh, hello, person – they must think we know each other … well, come in for some tea, at least.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">10. Latrines:<br />Do you need an explanation?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">11. Remote locations: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Just walked through the bush, alone, for fifteen minutes. Yeah, keep going. My house is down that
abandoned stretch of road just to your left.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">12. Discussing disgusting bodily functions: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">At the
dinner table. At any table, really.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">13. Hanging out in the dark:<br />Sorry, man ... I guess I forgot to buy candles at the market today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">15. That one bank teller calling for a random chat:<br />You didn't mean to give me your number? But you wrote it - right there - on the deposit slip where it requires a phone number (awkward pause) I'm confused.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">16. A </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">marriage</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> proposal w</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">ithin
thirty seconds of introduction:<br />Names? Who needs names with a love this strong?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">17. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">When
a stranger asks how you ‘maintain’
yourself:<br /> What they mean to ask is how often you have sex. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">18. Stealing babies:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh my. He is just adorable! Let me just take him over here and play with him for four hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">19. Spiders:<br />Oh, I almost forgot! Meet my new roommate! I named him Chester … he’s kind of anti-social, but I
like him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">20. Hearing something scurry across the ceiling:<br />Well, well, well. Sounds like SOMEONE's been having babies up there!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">21. Owning a dozen cats:<br />Look, I'm not going to sit here and justify my loneliness to you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">22. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Gnawing
on bones, eyeballs, or any other choice organs of an animal: <br />I
have to get my calcium somewhere. *gnaw gnaw gnaw*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">23. Adult-sized bunk beds: </span><br />It's like going to band camp with mosquito nets at 35 years old!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">24. Constant physical contact:<br />Oh hello, friend. I haven't been in contact with another American for at least three weeks. So, basically, I plan on spending the next 24 hours physically attached to you. No, I'm not going to wait for your permission. You smell delicious ...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">25. Murdering tonight's dinner:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m not talking about guns, either. I’m talking about killing that
chicken with your own rusted kitchen knife. LIKE A BOSS.<br /><br />26. Posting pictures </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">of
boils and/or any other puss-filled, disgusting infection on the internet:
<br />Why else do you think I have a Facebook account? Look! I named him Hubert!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">27. Staring </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">hungrily
at other people's packages: <br />What ... what is it, precious?!?!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">28. Stalking the</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> receiver of said package to wherever they plan on opening it: <br />Oh, hey. I spotted
you from across the room. And I'm just going to stand here, awkwardly, until I witness every item pulled out of that box.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">29. Bucket </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">bathing
together: <br />You know what sounds romantic right now? Squatting over a
bucket of water with you. Oh yeah. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">30. My current relationship with food:<br />Oh, wait. Thanks to Pinterest, that's completely normal now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">xx</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-34104485774728521902013-06-12T06:53:00.001-06:002016-04-15T12:38:19.983-06:00My Peace Corps Experience in Stats:<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Name: Emmaline Repp<br />
Age: 26<br />
Landed: June 4, 2010<br />
Swore-in: August 12, 2010<br />
Close of Service: August 30, 2013<br />
<br />
Years: 3.06<br />
Days: 1119<br />
Days spent in America: 55<br />
Days left of service: 79<br />
Birthdays: 3<br />
Leap Years: 1<br />
Apocalypses: 3<br />
Subsequent volunteer groups: 8<br />
<br />
Waterfalls: 4<br />
Beaches: 5<br />
Sacred Places: 6<br />
Monasteries: 1<br />
Monkey Sanctuaries: 2<br />
Temporary baby-animal home take-overs: 4<br />
Baby animals: 16<br />
Actual pets: 4<br />
<br />
Pounds gained (2010-2011): 16<br />
Pounds lost (2011-2013): 9<br />
<br />
Sites: 2<br />
Market Days: 244<br />
Regions visited: 10<br />
Visitors: 3<br />
<br />
Houses: 3<br />
Evacuations: 1<br />
Days spent in exile: 49<br />
Languages: 3<br />
Adopted mamas: 3<br />
Goats killed: 1<br />
Crops grown: 0<br />
<br />
All Vol Conferences: 3<br />
Prom crowns: 1/3 (we were all winners that night)<br />
Talent shows: 4<br />
<br />
Pictures posted: 47,129<br />
Blogs: 76<br />
Grants: 8<br />
Websites: 1<br />
Youtube videos: 2<br />
<br />
Boils: 0<br />
Parasites: 2<br />
Malaria: 1<br />
Highest fever: 104 F<br />
Number of (Mefloquine) night terrors that woke my entire household: 2<br />
Number of (Mefloquine) night terrors it took for them to ignore my night terrors: 3<br />
<br />
Pen Pals: 1<br />
Letters written: 60-70<br />
Average letter length: 30 pages<br />
<br />
Boyfriends: 2<br />
Friends gained: lost count<br />
Friends lost: 1<br />
Lessons learned: innumerable<br />
Regrets: 0<br />
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June 2013</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-5861096375812449902013-05-15T05:08:00.001-06:002013-05-15T07:16:42.287-06:00What Peace Corps Taught Me About Friendship<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSHwc7ssPAsqKB5FONTZCGzVVvb9XPWCUu27YvKbNv1fI6knr8_jBjRS2TwyqLpv3IAaSOe10FW__AShL84QAUNJiFWOk6vJ78pVIrlkLvOyefXf6OKL-IqAtAWVsuv42_8kbgQvlcPQ/s1600/544667_767400581651_1924954679_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSHwc7ssPAsqKB5FONTZCGzVVvb9XPWCUu27YvKbNv1fI6knr8_jBjRS2TwyqLpv3IAaSOe10FW__AShL84QAUNJiFWOk6vJ78pVIrlkLvOyefXf6OKL-IqAtAWVsuv42_8kbgQvlcPQ/s320/544667_767400581651_1924954679_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I'm not really sure how to begin. I want to talk about friendship - the special kind we seem to find in the Peace Corps; about the bounds and limits of the human heart; about loss and the kind of grief that accompanies only the greatest of love, but where do I begin?</div>
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I write this in the context of April 28, 2013. It's the day we lost one of our shining stars and the day I lost a very dear friend. The shock I feel, the grief of such sudden absence, is something I struggle to explain. I imagine my sadness will fade in time, but for now I hold it close because it reminds me of her. She was one of the best people I've ever met and our friendship was genuine. I feel lucky to have known her. She strengthened and lifted and brightened me; she made me a better person. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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She was rare, too, because anyone who knew and met her, however briefly, felt the same as I did. She always gave her undivided attention, reminded people of their importance. We felt loved in her presence and we danced in her light. And while her passing is mired in absolute sorrow, she reminded us - once again - of our strength; that the family we've found in the Peace Corps is a special one. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Friendship in the Peace Corps is a funny thing; we depend on each other in a way that isn't easy to explain. Our bonds are immediate and stronger than steel; the stress of sudden culture shock, of loneliness and homesickness, of the happiness and satisfaction that comes with living an adventure and fulfilling a purpose makes relationships (and the appreciation of them) necessary. The distance we feel - from our families and our homes and our norms - fortifies our love; everything is that much more important, time moves that much slower, milestones are that much greater because every second of every day calls into question our motivations. It has to be worth it, we have to make the best of it, and somewhere along the way we realize that the pettiness of every day life is just the white noise to a beautiful symphony.<br />
<br />
Of course, we forget sometimes; we're human, after all. And as the forest grows - ever expanding into a canopy that seems too high to reach - we lose sight of our tree. Yet we continue to motivate each other. We spend two years striking a balance between being a safety net and needing one; we see the absolute best and worst in each other, the absolute best and worst in ourselves; and at the close, we realize that what we've shared is truly unique. It's an experience that will, at times, put us at odds with the world; an experience that will put life into perspective; and the only people who will truly understand, who will see exactly what we see, are the volunteers we've met. They speak the same secret language, stand on the same deserted island, stare out at the same wide ocean with the same wide eyes. And they understand because they watched us grow. </div>
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If we'd forgotten, Danni helped us remember. And as hard as it was, I'm grateful. I don't know what I would do without my Peace Corps family; just knowing that I wasn't alone - that I'm not alone - is enough to strengthen me. We hold each other and guide each other and we do it all with Danni's strength. Her memory, her love, her motivation reflected in us; living there in the space she made in our hearts, in the place we made for her.</div>
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The only way I can explain the immensity of my grief is to explain the fierceness forged in just two years of service: a family you can't choose, but want to; an intimate understanding of the soul and its capabilities; an immense pride for rarity and imperfection; an embrace that carries with it a hello and a goodbye, love and recognition, and the acknowledgement of brother, sister, and self.<br />
<br />
With yet another group closing their service, yet another round of goodbyes to be said (mine included), it's hard for me to express the pride I feel in the friendships I've gained here, in the family I've made for myself. It's precious and it's rare and I'm lucky to have it. And if I make and keep one promise it's that I will never, ever forget.</div>
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We miss you, baby girl.</div>
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Thank you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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xx</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-59009387835241946132013-04-26T03:48:00.000-06:002013-04-26T06:13:43.173-06:00What Ghana Taught Me About Giving<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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If there’s one thing I've noticed over the years, it’s that Ghanaians
have a wonderful knack for giving.<br />
<br />
Usually it's simple: someone’s
time or help, their opinion about the culture or their advice; and it’s hard
to pinpoint exactly when these times will be. There are days when no one seems
to want to give an inch and, just as quickly, everyone seems to be giving
something (and giving it freely). I've often been completely surprised, knocked
off of my guard by someone’s kindness. Usually this happens on the worst of days and exactly when I need it; a reminder that, in the heat and exhaustion, I can continue - one foot in front of the other - because the world is good.</div>
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There’s no end to the kinds of things I've received: American coins, sea shells, drawings of trees and real, delicious popsicles; people have paid
for my travel, taken me (completely out of their way) to the location I'm so unfamiliar with, fed me and carried my bags; there are always kind words and
smiles, curiosity and conversation, and an over-abundance of
marriage proposals. Though I attribute some of this to my 'visitor' status, Ghana is of a communal mentality; centered in traditionalism, family
homes, and village life Ghanaians take care of each other because their well-being
is dependent upon one another. (What’s to say that tomorrow they won’t need
help, in turn?)</div>
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<br /></div>
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As a rule, giving is only satisfying when
it’s wholehearted and honest, completely void of expectation. Generally, there's no reason for kindness other than the kindness, itself. And, though it
seems such a simple thing, it tends to fill the biggest holes, heal the largest
wounds, and is quickly contagious. After three years, much of it spent dependent on the kindness of others, I've come to understand that life is about giving. Whether it be the heart, kindness, creativity, or capital, the
world is meant to be shared. Too many adventures and stories would cease to
exist, too many simple fulfillments would go unnoticed, if no one opened their
hearts and minds; if no one gave an inch.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And, really, there's a simple reason philanthropists are happy: they help make
other people happy. While it’s strange to think of myself as a
philanthropist, I guess that’s what I've become (though most of what I
give seems meager); a smile here, a hug there, my undivided attention and compassion. The best reward I've received isn't payment or recognition, either; it's a smile, returned. The shy kind of
smile that lets me know I've made someone feel special for
a moment, and that's all the reward I need.</div>
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As Ghana is more ‘Westernized’ and cities get bigger, this
will undoubtedly change. It’s an unfortunate reality I've begun to witness; as people modernize they become autonomous (maybe this is why Ghanaian hospitality is so pleasantly surprising). In the
modern world we cling to our pennies, covet our time, and pine over our
privacy; we grow farther and farther apart, orbiting each other like satellites, attempting to find solace in social media outlets and iPhone
applications that connect us to some form of community. </div>
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The longer I’m in Ghana, the more I realize that giving is
exactly why I came here; it became my philosophy, a philosophy I think many of us need. I can honestly say that there’s nothing more satisfying than giving a
kindness, no matter how small; a smile, the taxi fare, the simple
acknowledgement that a stranger is important and recognized and loved. In all of this I've found that I, too, am recognized, often receive more than I give, and am happiest in the simple happiness of others. It's kind of fantastic.</div>
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So, go on … give in and give a little. Ten bucks says you won't be disappointed.</div>
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xx</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-51955736344873628602013-04-25T10:06:00.000-06:002014-04-25T14:01:08.855-06:00A Little Malaria<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
April 25th is World Malaria Day and, while for some it is a problem of the past, countries all over the world are still affected by it every day. The most vulnerable are children - every 60 seconds brings about the Malaria-related death of child - and though it may be easily prevented and treated, Malaria is one of four major causes of death in Ghana.<br />
<br />
Ironically enough, I'd caught Malaria in the med-unit, at our Home Office, underneath a mosquito net (I'd apparently been sharing it with a very smart mosquito). Looking back, I should have recognized the signs: cyclical symptoms, joint pain, a very high fever, but my anti-Malarial medication suppressed the symptoms and I was too excited about coming home. As I shivered violently in my airplane seat and managed the splitting pain behind my eyes, I thought I might have caught a cold from one of the ninety children I hugged goodbye as I left the village behind. It was persistent though, whatever it was, and as that first week went by I started to wonder if something was seriously wrong with me.<br />
<br />
In addition to an ebbing fever - peaking at 104 degrees - I'd developed a shortness of breath that left me gasping for air, a sharp, light-sensitive pain behind my eyes, joint and muscle aches from the base of my neck to my knees, and a complete lack of appetite. At one point a friend witnessed my lips turn blue, but I barely noticed as I struggled to keep my head from splitting in half. I was clearly in rough shape. The catalyst came when my mum, leaving me fully-dressed and relatively well for an errand down the road, returned to find me face down in the basement. I'd fallen asleep face down because it made my head stop hurting; I was fully dressed because it took all of my energy to crawl down there; I crawled down there because it was the only place that seemed cool enough for comfort. My Malaria logic was sound, but it still felt like I was dying.<br />
<br />
And it turns out I was. After talking to a medical officer who, listening to me struggle between breath and speech, told me to get to a hospital immediately, I found out that I'd contracted the deadliest type of Malaria (the most common form in West Africa). I'd been living with the parasite for over two weeks and it had done its work patiently.<br />
<br />
The treatment was simple enough - we flushed my system with the strongest anti-malarial we could find and I was interviewed by the Center for Disease Control. For about a week I was zombie-like and listless. It was like waking up from the worst hangover I'd ever had, but no one around me understood what it was.<br />
<br />
627,000 people died from Malaria in 2012, alone; most of them were children. Many people, if not all, are perfectly capable of preventing Malaria, but lack the education or the motivation to change their behavior. When people are sick in Ghana it's often referred to as 'a little Malaria.' As if Malaria is an innocent, passing infection instead of something that can swiftly carry away a life. Additionally, people get and treat Malaria multiple times, which only leads them to believe that it isn't something to be feared or prevented. Educating them is key.<br />
<br />
Many organizations all over the world are taking a stand against Malaria and while Malaria may not directly affect you, now you know someone's story. The good news is that you can save someone's life today. To learn more about Malaria and how you can help organizations take lifesaving actions, click on the links below. Because Malaria doesn't always have to end in tragedy:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.malarianomore.org/" target="_blank">http://www.malarianomore.org</a><br />
<a href="http://www.netsforlifeafrica.org/" target="_blank">http://www.netsforlifeafrica.org</a><br />
<a href="http://www.endmalarianow.org/home.php" target="_blank">http://www.endmalarianow.org/home.php</a><br />
<br />
Be sure to check out Stomp Out Malaria at <a href="http://www.stompoutmalaria.org/" target="_blank">www.stompoutmalaria.org</a> for more Peace Corps stories in the fight to end Malaria.<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-49191566615040030092013-03-25T03:08:00.000-06:002013-03-25T04:10:13.817-06:00The Nature of a Volunteer: An Introspection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've been thinking about this a lot lately, so bear with me ...</div>
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Being a volunteer seems easy; we do the work we love, we
explore the world, and we get to control our projects, our involvement, and
what<i> kind</i> of volunteer we want to be.
We have relative freedom and on paper, in concise sentences, it all sounds rather
inspiring – a dream come true.</div>
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And, yet, being a volunteer is the most challenging thing
many of us will ever do. <i>“The toughest
job you’ll ever love.”</i> This overused
phrase is our catch-all, our mantra; we see it everywhere (and many of us hate it). When we can’t find
the words to explain what we do, we employ it. When things get hard, we are
reminded of it by Peace Corps staff. The nature of the job is unpredictable and
unpredictable is tough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Peace Corps is an experience so unique it can’t be compared, not even with other Peace Corps experiences; expectations are useless. Unfortunately, existing in an environment without precedent, without pattern or
explanation, affects us, changes us in minute ways - ways that don’t exist
outside of this experience, ways that challenge self-perception and beg for
explanation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The nature of a
volunteer is contradictory. It breeds competitiveness and flexibility (both fueled by the wish to be a good volunteer ... whatever <i>that</i> means); site-guilt and exploration (an often painful struggle between staying at site as much as possible and leaving site as much as possible, usually to maintain sanity); compassion and an ironic lack of empathy (which, at times, manifests itself in the form of unfortunate and misguided bigotry). Watching the jump from trainee to volunteer is a curious thing – we feverishly track psychological charts (which I took great pleasure in burning) and attempt to navigate this winding, adapting emotional environment unlike anything we've ever encountered (see: <a href="http://little-emmaline.blogspot.com/2010/09/crazy-ghana-me.html" target="_blank">http://little-emmaline.blogspot.com/2010/09/crazy-ghana-me.html</a>).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
For many of us the Peace Corps<i> </i>is its own purpose; upon arriving, and lacking direction, we can become apathetic and contradictory – ever grateful for
the experience, but as quick to judge, tire, and anger as we
are to laugh, love, and enjoy. Sometimes it's easier to join in on nitpicking and ethnocentrism; we start to make unfair assumptions, lean on less-than-desirable
coping mechanisms. Some days it takes everything we have to be kind, patient and gracious; we stumble, we lash out,
we punish. We forget that, as well as being kind, patient, and gracious in our
interactions, we must be kind, patient, and gracious with ourselves. Contrary to popular belief, every
day doesn't need to be an adventure; nothing needs to be justified - we are already here.
The only thing that matters is making every day worth it, which is entirely up
to us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of us will end up thinking our host country owes us
something, that we are sacrificing something better to be here (ignoring that we
choose to stay, that our experiences, however short-lived, will be worth it). Some of us will find it difficult to
interact with people, walking a line of ethnocentrism; expecting some form of special treatment and consideration without intending to give any. Some days it will escape us entirely that everyone has a story, everyone has a reason, and everyone deserves a little dignity. There will be times when everything that compelled us and inspired us will be lost to us. There will always be bad days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is why the job is so tough: mentally, it’s exhausting;
in terms of activity, it’s sporadic; physically, it’s full of surprises and
anomalies. All of these things will, at some point, cause us to forget laughter; we will forget to go easy
on a world that is trying very hard to interact with us (even as we try very
hard to interact back). The worst of us will make unhappy choices and grow unappreciative (even as they plan to highlight, italicize and bold this experience at the top of their resumes).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess the secret (to my own continued satisfaction,
at least), isn't in some grand experience that was perfect in every way. It’s in
forgiving the experience for what it can be – challenging,
exhausting, and permanent. We accept the good things, the amazing life-changing possibilities, as soon
as we apply, but every coin has two sides. Refusing to acknowledge this strips the experience of its reality, refuses to consider, observe and appreciate life in its many forms (however absurd they may be). There is no perfect
placement; a great site will only be as great as a volunteer's reaction to it (we must take at least<i> that</i> much responsibility).
We can’t please everyone and we won’t; it won't always be easy; we will be noticed; we <i>are</i> different ... but didn't we always know these things?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of this changes us indelibly, it is a fact of which we are constantly reminded; but I believe we have a choice in the direction of those changes. Life isn't perfect; what is Peace Corps, if not just another form of life? We made a leap, we took a chance (and it's true that many of us put everything on the line), but that's exactly what makes it worth it: we've been given the opportunity to do something most people aren't doing - the challenge is not wasting the
experience while it’s here. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
xx </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535605196509844105.post-47462615501577133572013-02-26T04:16:00.003-07:002013-03-16T06:49:16.173-06:00Our African Sun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I close my eyes and feel the unbelievable heat; we're going no more than forty miles an hour and the desert sun, riding on a tide of the wind, rolls in from a broken window; I'm sitting in the undesirable seat. Climbing up the steps, forty pairs of eyes met mine, that single seat staring at me from the back of the bus. My mouth widened to a grin and I clumsily stepped over passengers, seat by seat, nodding, offering small acknowledgements: “Hi, hello, good morning, how is everyone, sorry for the inconvenience, excuse me, thank you …” Finally, settled into my seat, a seemingly detachable and well-worn cushion, I looked up to find a gaping hole in the floral paneling above. Such misfortune could only come from African speed bumps and longer necks; I thank my mother for smaller genes and the engine rattles to life; I relax into the charm of my Bolga bus. It feels good to come home.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Familiar landscape greets wandering eyes – red dirt, tan grass cracked and worn from sun; barren and beautiful, leafless trees stretch out from the ground like lightning, they are limbs emerging from slumber. It's been six months, but feels as though no time has passed. The same townships, the same monuments, the same colorful houses with roofs of thatch and tin; square walls, round walls, mud and brick and dung. The same sun, moving through skies of lingering Harmattan sand, will soon be perfect for sunset trysts with naked eye - a muted orb painted colors of fire, isolated and hanging as if from string, framed in unchanging grey until it sinks beneath the flat horizon. Those same sands, sometimes floating, sometimes whipping, through the windows of our bus quickly dry my skin and knot my hair, flurried greetings that form instant wrinkles where my smile dances again and again.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Even for a weekend, returning home somehow feels refreshing, rejuvenating; a lightness descends. I’m amazed to find I am heavy enough to touch the ground; I fully expect to leave the earth and meet clouds above. Distance and time heal, release tension and resolve shadow like a light in the dark. I am truly happy, completely unburdened despite recent tribulations; I want to laugh and dance and hug everyone in sight. Maybe they won't remember me, maybe they won’t care, but that doesn't matter – I’m home; I remember; I care.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It’s easy to forget how important these moments become. There was always something to smile about at the end of the day; triumphant returns solidify old truths. Heat isn't unbearable because it makes the breeze sweeter; children are simply children, not enemies – curiosities are reasonable, my bright skin baking under the light of our great African sun. I forgot the moon could get so bright, making flash lights unnecessary; I forgot the sky could be clean enough that thousands of lights are visible from millions of miles and years away. I am never millions of miles or years away and my return is triumphant; I feel free.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I am home.</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01237354227201263961noreply@blogger.com0