August 30, 2010

I am leaving today. Today is the day I am leaving. I am leaving on this day.

We fly from Chicago to Rome, and then from Rome to Bucharest. We arrive in Bucharest at around 2:00 pm local time on Tuesday, which is either 6:00 am or 7:00 am for most of you.

I had some issues with packing. Despite all of my noble ambitions, I packed WAY too much. I think I will be okay, but we might desperately be shedding poundage at the airport terminal tomorrow. It's not my fault, really- about 50 pounds of stuff is for the classroom. Could I really have deprived the children? My biggest concern is that we will arrive in Bucharest (where, miraculously the heat wave has broken) and get to my apartment, which could be an 8 floor walk up for all I know. And I will literally be making trips running up and down the stairs to get everything into the postage stamp of a flat. There are bigger things to worry about, of course.

One of these is my hairstyle for the plane tomorrow. Why NOT worry about that? I'm pretty settled on just going the french braid route, which is easy to do, comfortable, and can look nice after hours of grimy travel. Maybe I'll feel differently in the morning; who knows.

I actually am a lot more calm than I ever anticipated I would be at this point. I mean, I literally will be boarding a plane (with a one-way ticket) in about 15 hours. And I am feeling perfectly content and happy and not freaking out at all. Things have a way of working out- this a lesson I learned after about 21 years of finding little things to stress over.

I want to just make a note concerning the incredible blessing of people I have in my life. I am constantly amazed by my family and friends. I have received phone calls and texts and visits of encouragement and prayer and thoughtfulness from so many people in the last few weeks. My cup overflows.

I will try to keep everyone updated in these next few days, but it will probably consist of very brief postings when I have Internet access. I would love to keep in contact with as many people as possible- so feel free to add me on Facebook, email me, or add me as a contact on Skype!

Surprisingly

I just said goodbye to my younger brother C~ and his girlfriend J~ after a weekend spent with them at Northern Michigan University in Marquette, Michigan.

And I'm not crying right now. THIS, friends, is a monumental event.

Maybe goodbye does get easier. Or perhaps this will all just hit at a later time.

These later times include (but are certainly not limited to) the following:

1. As soon as I get on the plane headed home
2. In the middle of my doctor's appointment tomorrow morning as we discuss travel health
3. During my root canal on Wednesday while I am flying high on happy gas
4. On Thursday, when I start my packing in earnest
5. On Friday, while sitting in the dental chair
6. On Saturday, when all the last minute details are coming together
7. On Sunday, as we drive toward Chicago and I say goodbye to brother #2, E~
8. On Monday, as I am sitting at the airport after saying the "last goodbyes"

And by "hit," I mean that I will either survive this with strength and grace and courage, or I will be a disaster.

I had a dream the other night that we were sitting at the airport in Chicago and I was about to make last minute calls to say goodbye to people. I pulled a list out of my pocket to run down the line (yes, even in dreams I have a list fetish), and some of my very dear friends featured. I reached in for my phone to start calling, and realized in an instant that I didn't have it. (I will not be bringing a cell to Romania) Enough of a freakout ensued that D~ had to call security to calm me down, and I wasn't allowed to board the plane. I can assure you that I haven't had that kind of an episode in about 18 years, but it was an epic tantrum in my dream. Let's hope I experience some more self-control in the real situation, if only for the sake of D~ and his sanity.

Kind of a crazy week to come.

Faithfulness

I realized many things this week, and especially in these last three incredibly special days filled with the love of dear people. I cannot write about it now because I will just start crying in the basement of Decker Hall, but eventually I will blog about the incredible nature of each of my friends. So hold on- your special day is coming, probably sometime in mid-October after my life has stopped changing drastically and I can sleep a bit and think of people without tearing up.

One of my big ah-ha moments this week has to do with being faithful. Like branches of a tree, this particular concept extends in two ways- staying true to those I love and the values I hold dear, and my faith.

The first branch is easiest for me, even in the midst of this incredibly difficult personal stuff (which is honestly kind of comical). In most aspects of my life, it is easy to be steadfast. I can find what I want and cling to it with a sense of loyalty and devotion, be it a friendship, a career, or an idea. I started to think about why this is an easy task for me, and I realized that it comes from assurance. I am completely sure that these things are right and good in my life, and so it is easy to latch on and remain true and faithful. Why doesn't my sense of certainty apply to my faith?

I hope it has nothing to do with uncertainty about the nature of God. I would love to say that I have absolutely grounded beliefs that allow me to be true to my faith. I crave the intimate connection I once felt, but with a sense of apprehension. Because now, faith is more than a personal set of right and wrong behaviors. It is more than a prescribed list of actions. Faith now represents how I want to interact with the world, and the motivation behind it. And maybe I'm just not completely sure of that. In a world that I tried to fill with certainty about what I believe, I wish I could be faithful to my faith.

I Miss This

I miss blogging, I really do. I miss the introspection I had earlier this summer, the outlook I had on life. But the words just don't flow when the emotions aren't right, and the emotions aren't right right now.

I'm headed back to Anderson today to tie up loose ends and say goodbye to my dear friends. And as anxious as I am to see them and spend quality time with the people I love dearly... I am a little nervous. Because this really will be the last time- there will be no more definite plans for a long time, no date to count down to. I'm kind of dreading the START of this time together, because it means the end will only be closer.

I'm kind of sad, and feeling terribly guilty. Because this should be exciting, right? This should be a wonderful, adventurous time spent saying (as my dear C~ would say) "See you later!" But all I can do is be sad.

Hoping that this week isn't too upsetting.

Let's Hope

The end of April and the beginning of May were relatively stressful times in my life. And by relatively stressful, I mean the craziest period in my entire 16 years of schooling. I was finishing up a year of student teaching, preparing to leave the city I had fallen in love with and the friendships that had developed. I knew that I had an intense summer course ahead of me, along with a job hunt that wasn't particularly promising.

And I had a final student teaching presentation to give, tied in with my Senior Honors project. The pressure was on, and my brain had switched from "student" to "teacher" mode. I was concerned with planning engaging lessons and preparing teaching materials and getting up the energy to love on my little friends every day. I was no longer able to sit down at my computer and knock out an academic paper in two hours, or input data quickly, or create a killer presentation. I could make a math worksheet in an instant or create some fantastic activities that would blow student minds. But this task- this huge Teacher Work Sample and research project and presentation- I felt like this was insurmountable.

I arrived in Anderson the night before my presentation, having just driven from Chicago. I passed the windmill farms alone (more about this in another post), and got to the house I would be staying at around 11:30 at night. My presentation a little over 12 hours away, I got to work immediately, barely even saying hello to my host and hostess. I had slept approximately 4 hours in the last twenty-four, but plodded onward, emerging from my room 8 hours later with a finished presentation. I had one last task in front of me: getting two bound copies of my Teacher Work Sample.

I would like you to picture me now, looking a little like Charlize Theron in Monster. (If you haven't seen it, do a google search for images FAR from the eyes of any children). I hadn't slept normally in about 5 months. I certainly hadn't showered in... longer than I care to admit. My hair was greasy and out of control, my eyes were bloodshot and drooping, and I was still in my clothes from the day before that I am pretty sure were actually clothes from the day before THAT. I was disgusting, but that wasn't stopping me. I drove with determination down Scatterfield Road to Office Depot, where my dear friend had NO idea what was coming.

I walk inside about three minutes after the store opens, and go straight to the copy center. I cannot describe the poor woman's reaction as I approached. A combination of fear and apprehension and probably a small amount of disgust.

"HI! I have something really important that I need to get done now. I need some help!"

"Okay, ma'am. What can we do for you today?"

"I need two copies of EVERYTHING on this flash drive printed. And then I need it to be spiral bound. Can you do that? Please tell me you can do that?"

"Well, ma'am. Let's see. Okay. There seems to be a problem with the software. I can't pull up your files here."

(PANIC)

"Okay, don't worry. Let's try this computer. Okay. Look. They are all here!"

"Okay. Okay. Okay. I need that printed first, and then that and OH MY GOD. Where is all the data in these charts?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe it didn't save?"

"Oh, it saved. It saved alright. It just. It just. It just ISN'T THERE!!!"

"Well, ma'am. I just don't think we can help you."

HERE IS WHERE THINGS GET CRAZY. THIS REALLY HAPPENED.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I, I, I feel like I have been carrying this baby since last fall. And now I'm ready to deliver it. And no one will let me give birth!" (Starting to cry)

"Well, maybe we can work something out."

Two minutes later, I am reentering all of the data into the charts, from behind the employee counter. Apparently that is "against policy," but my demon eyes were quite persuasive. I walked away about 25 minutes later with two spiral bound copies and no idea what I had done to that poor woman. It hit later on, after some sleep and a shower.

I went back the next day after my presentation. I carried with me a thank-you card, and she had no idea who I was.

"I just want to thank you for all your help yesterday. I know I was a little crazy."

"Oh my gosh." (Two steps back)

"Yes, well. Thank you. And I am so sorry."

"It's okay. I had a good story to tell..."

Indeed.

Overkill

Much of my life is about overkill. I talk a lot here about the obsessive nature of my personality, and my struggles to temper it in certain aspects of my life. I get addicted to things and people, I move quickly through ideas and passions, and I act without thinking. What is a good idea in one moment is terrible in another, but for my lack of foresight and consideration I must accept the consequences. Usually these are mostly personal and have little effect on the people around me.

Except that sometimes they do.

I cannot wait to get back to a place in my life that doesn't focus entirely on me. I am craving the exhaustion of a classroom, the energy drain that one feels when you pour everything you have into a lesson and you come out used and dirty and ragged on the other side. I ache to have emotion outside of myself. I yearn for passion concerning something that isn't directly related to my life.

But for now, I am wrapped up in a frenzy of "last" things. Things that are close to my heart and necessary for the weeks ahead, but things that also affect other people. I am tired of being selfish. And I miss being balanced.

A Most Joyous Return

Sometimes I tire of my thoughts. And this blog is 95% about my thoughts. Consequently, I sometimes tire of this blog.

That is all for now. I promise to actually return to the world of sharing my life in a bit.

Detachment

I was recently talking to someone about my fears concerning the amount of emotional attachment I feel towards certain things, and whether or not this emotional attachment will somehow take away from the physical act. I was struck by the profound nature of his answer, in my scrambled brain at least.

The basic message was that an entirely different and more intense set of emotion is produced when accompanied by a physical act. Close your eyes and imagine that you hit your thumb with a hammer, and describe the feelings you have. Now, go get a hammer and hit your thumb. The feelings will be much different, much more intense, right? These might be similar emotions to those described earlier, and we can always imagine the pain. However, nothing except the physical act of hitting yourself in such a way can produce the same sentiments. This made a great deal of sense to me, and certainly relates to more than the original subject of discussion.

This applies in converse ways concerning the upcoming year. First, from the standpoint of one living in the United States and looking forward to this journey. The emotional anticipation I feel is nothing compared to the feelings I will experience when physically there. The mixture of joy and excitement and anxiety I feel now concerning my classroom will only be compounded when I am actually standing in it. This translates to everything I will come to know in this new place. Even imagining the intensity of these emotions is overwhelming at the moment.

Secondly, I am beginning to wonder about my feelings towards the physical I experience in the States, once these things are removed. The touch of a friend, the sounds of my city, the smell of home. Does this principle work both ways? Will my emotional attachment to these things be somehow diminished because of the lack of physical stimulus, or will the store of physical memories I carry sustain the intensity of these emotions?

I ache to know, and remain afraid of the answer.

Mobile, Alabama Leprechaun

Another List

You probably are reading this, expecting another list. Well- I got you! Because this post will have TWO lists.


Things I will miss about the United States:
1. Potbellys. Those of you who aren't from Chicago may not know about this fantastic little restaurant chain. It is, indeed, fantastic, and loads of my money goes to support it.

2. Sweet Corn. I have heard that this isn't a thing in Romania. And this thing happens to be my favorite thing.

3. English. This one sounds absurd, but I am getting exhausted just thinking about the language barrier. I KNOW that I will be teaching English, and that many of my counterparts will also be able to converse in my native language. But I want to fully experience the culture- and this means straining to understand whilst in the community.

4. People. Duh.



Things I will NOT miss about the United States:
1. Guns. I promise to keep this blog civil. But for REAL? We can argue about this all night, but I still think that 2nd Amendment was kinda dumb. And terribly outdated. What happened to a living and breathing Constitution? People don't need to shoot dinner anymore, and certainly not with a handgun SPECIFICALLY designed to murder a human. That is all.

2. Politics. Many of you who know me understand that I am a political junkie. I follow politics and spend absurd amounts of time reading news stories and discussing political marketing and theory and of course, watching "The West Wing" again and again. But I am just a little tired of the bickering here. And the lying. Lots of lying.

3. Local News. I'm sorry. This is getting a little bit specific and judgemental. But it's my blog, so I don't really care. I HATE local news. I have such problems knowing that people are getting paid MONEY to report things that are simply irrelevant. See the post above for clarification.
And local meteorologists- you are not exempt from my wrath. Your DOPPLAR RADAR 3000 can just fall apart. And please stop calling yourself by monikers that you think are jazzy. Everyone knows you lead the lonely and depressing life of a man with big hopes for a spot on The Weather Channel.


Hmm. That got bitter kind of quickly. Oops. My sincere apologies.

Really?

A good part of my new responsibilities at work involve fielding parent phone calls and answering questions.

"Yes, Mrs. Rosenberg. We do have a record of Noah going home with Adam today.Thanks for calling!"

"I will make a note of that and be sure Naomi's counselor knows to use a lot of bug spray. Thanks for calling!"

"Yes, the Trailblazers will be going on a field trip THIS Thursday, not next week.Thanks for calling!"

Then sometimes, people come out of the woodwork. Batshit crazy people appear out of nowhere. And then they call me.

"Ma'am, I am sorry that your daughter doesn't like her swimming instructor. Frankly, I don't care. Because he does a fantastic job. Perhaps your five year old is simply cold when she gets in the pool. Or maybe she is upset because she lost a silly band. Or that another girl in her group has the same swimsuit and jealousy starts early. And mostly, I don't care because this is her THIRD swim instructor. Maybe you should be paying for a camp that doesn't include some fine swimming lessons every day."

"Sir, I am not sure what you would like for the camp to do. It is pretty clear that your son doesn't like the lunches you pack him. And we have a pretty solid 'no force feeding' policy. He really hates that bread with all the seeds in it, and the lox on his bagel- he is not a fan. And also, you should know. Your child is not a vegetarian like you may think he is. You should SEE that kid scarf hot dogs on cookout day."

"Ma'am, we will certainly talk to the counselor of the group about your daughter's issues. I know she is not getting along with anyone, and it is week 7 of camp, and you really think she should be making friends at this point. But let me give you some hints. She would probably get along better with her group members if she didn't steal their stuff, make fun of everyone, and flick her boogers on people when her finger isn't in her nose. You made her this way, now fix it. "

"Sir, I understand that your son doesn't like the arts and crafts time. Can I be blunt here? That is because YOU are a chauvinistic pig. Yes, certain kids have different interests. But the approximately... ELEVEN hours a week your son gets of sports kind of trumps the 2 hours of art. Some kids even like art better! Maybe he would enjoy himself more if he didn't think that art was a girly thing to do. And maybe he wouldn't think that if you took your eyes off of my chest and thought about being an example to your son. Just sayin'... "

"Ma'am. I have no idea where your son left his sweatband. I mean, why the heck is your son wearing a sweatband? We aren't sweatin' to the oldies here at camp- little kids can be cruel. So can the counselors who make fun of him behind his back. Don't you want you son to have friends? I know you checked the lost and found. But I would like you to consider the distinct possibility that your son purposely lost his sweatband. And by lost, I mean flushed it down the toilet or dug a hole and buried it in the far field. And no amount of labeling on your part will help us recover it. And please don't swear at me. "

I hereby pledge that I will never be this kind of parent.
(Repeat with me after raising your right hand and putting your other on the Holy Book of your choice)

Connection

I often am able to look back on a season in my life and notice growth in one capacity or another. It is usually after the period has ended, and improvement reveals itself by rising out of the mundane where it was concieved and developed, and where it hibernated until I turned my head to glance back. And I am constantly surprised by the existence of this thing that dwelled in my spirit and grew in my heart and lodged itself in my head. I turn forward and continue onward through the next season.

This season, something changed. In this time of uncertainity and decision and dreaming, I can feel the growth. I felt it nestle down deep inside of me, coursing through my body, becoming part of my unconscious thought until it burst through fully formed into my life.

This season has been about the beauty and intimacy of connection. I have written before about my incredible friendships and support system- but those were things I knew about before. I am talking about the fresh knowledge of humanity and the beautiful recognition of another's soul. I have recently had the chance to connect with a variety of people in a wide range of ways. I found myself revealing little bits of my spirit, not to the other person per se, but to the collective knowledge we shared by the very virtue of being human.

I like this kind of growth. And I like knowing about it now.