Wednesday, July 25, 2012

What Will Be

"Pretty much every option is on the table for me right now." This is what I told a friend today as we were discussing my future.  She brought up a job that will soon be posted at her place of employment. Before the job even existed - it's a new position- we had discussed the possibility of me applying for it. "Except something that keeps me here."

So maybe not all options are on the table. I'm planning on selling my house. I have the wanderlust. Does it sound like I've caught a disease? My current position doesn't feel like a disease.  It feels like freedom.  What's so interesting about this freedom I feel is that, if I looked my situation through someone else's eyes, I would see obstacles, lack of money being the primary one. But, as I wrote a little over a month ago, money is not proving to be an obstacle. I received my tax refund. I've done some house-sitting and launched an etsy site (yes, this is a shameless plug for it).  When classes start, I'll be substitute teaching.  It's likely that I'll do some fund-raising for my next volunteer experiences.  I have faith that if I am meant to go first short-term to Iraq and then longer-term to Palestine, I will earn the money.  My life has flowed like that, so I can't help but trust that I can trust.

A friend of mine was talking about her sister for whom everything seems to works out with little effort on her part.  My friend has not had the same fortune. I'll admit that before our conversation, I have thought about the way our individual lives have evolved. I've wondered why mine seems to flow smoothly and hers seems full of rapids.  I don't know the answer.

I do know that when I look at obstacles as barriers, that's what they become. They stop me. When I look at obstacles as hurdles, they act like hurdles. I jump over them.    

I confessed to the friend I was with today that I'd like to return to India.  In my ideal scenario, over the next few years, I'd spend part of each year in Palestine as a human rights observer, part of each year in India volunteering and writing, and part of each year in the U.S. spending time with loved ones, writing, and perhaps speaking about my experiences. When I made my confession, her response surprised me.  She offered possibilities that I didn't know existed that could make the India portion of my dream happen. 
Her response gave me another reason to trust in what will be.  

What Will Be. It is a vague notion, but I nonetheless trust it. I remember last year at about this time when plans were evolving for my travels.  The plans that developed were not what I had originally imagined.  They were better.  They were better because I trusted what was telling me to commit myself to the Sisters of Charity and I trusted whatever led me to look up an organization mentioned in a stranger's Couchsurfing profile.  The organization was Project Hope, where I ended up volunteering for two months. The plans were better because, during my travels, I trusted when I was drawn to spend another day in Assisi, a day that proved to be quite lovely, and when I was drawn to Montenegro, a country that had been completely off my radar, to conclude my travels.

When I didn't try to mold events into preconceived notions of how things would be, they formed themselves the way they chose, rather than trying to squeeze themselves into my ready-made boxes for them. Custom-making their containers after they were fully formed worked better.  I trusted What Will Be.

What Will Be puts things on the table for me.  It takes things off, too, but always replaces them with even better things.  I'm going to keep the table clear, so What Will Be can continue to surprise me with new items on the table.  


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