an explosion of sorts

the more i travel, the more i learn about the world. the more i learn about the world, the more i want to rid myself of that numbing illness called normalcy, which would have me sit in a pew surrounded by my own excrements rather than breathing the fresh air of the world. i want the dirt of all seven continents to stain the creases in the bottoms of my feet, the faces of the people who i will never meet in the walls of a church (you know, those buildings that cost more than some people will make working every day their whole lives) or in the blank glow of the internet -- i want these faces to decorate the walls of my memory and paint the outlines of my ideas. i want to act, to stop pretending. i want to pave my own path and laugh at forms and plans and economic aspirations and personal gain. i want to live off of other people's hospitality so that i will one day be able to offer the same to restless travelers.

these past several days there has been very little stopping me from throwing everything i own that is of value into the ocean and leaving the university with all its plans and paperwork and walls in the dust. and yet, at the same time, so much is stopping me. my fears: there are many. uncertainty: everywhere. security: it's a lie, but i'm so attached to it. i am so afraid of waking up one day many years from now only to realize that my hopes and dreams have been reduced to childhood naivity that i choose to forget.



i realized that the reason i was feeling so down about being here is because of this curse of normalcy -- the stagnant waters around me were making me nauseous and i forgot the power of the ocean, of movement. but then i remembered -- or rather, was reminded -- of who i am by the one who made me. i am made for great things, for adventure, for big love. and this love is fluid, always moving without beginning or end.

it all started with a tiny spark of inspiration that told me i wanted to go to bolivia. why bolivia? i didn't know, but i began reseraching. with 60% of the population currently living in poverty, this country has struggled under dictators, human rights infringements, and all manner of cruelty for as long as the history books can remeber. the most current president is the first to be of indiegnous descent, despite the fact that over half the population is indigenous, and another 30% is meztizo. a large portion of the population speaks the native quechua language, although most speak at least some spanish. the more i read about this country and about some of the nonprofits established there that are fighting for the rights of impoverished communities and family farms, the more confused i became as to why i have been walking on the paved road where the thorny paths are ever so conveniently hidden from view. even as i partake in this chilean adventure that started two months ago, i am so protected. everything is laid out before me, and it's all egocentric. my classes, my host family, my going out experience, my safety, my cultural experience, my my my... the same thing can happen regardless of what country i am in, and it is not merely a desire to go to bolivia that haunts me. i'm looking out again, and seeing the adventure of giving and of loving. i am so antsy to participate! i don't want to prepare any more, i want to DO. i want to cast off "plans" (they never follow through anyhow) and security, and DO. all these emotions and desires and realizations came like a flood, pinning me up against the compassionate shoulder of my best friend until all my tears had been squeezed out (mixed in with some snot, of course) and at last i took the first breath of fresh air that i've tasted for quite some time.

i don't have a solution, but that's not the point. i dont know why i'm still here -- whether it's because the Lord has more growth planned before tossing me out into the wild or because i am tethered by my own fears -- or where i am to go next. but i do have fresh air in my lungs, which gives me hope that i have not forgotten and have not been forgotten. and i am more certain than ever that this passion that sometimes explodes in various forms (tears, dancing, laughter, hugs...) is from the Lord and therefore will NOT waste away to nothing.

i am made for great things.
there are countless adventures not yet written.

so for now i'm breathing in deep. being thankful. watching for what's next.