Journey with Joy: A Different Lakeshore

A secluded spot on Lake Erie

It has been...
40 days since I left my home in La Plata
30 days since I left Argentina
20 days since I returned to my home in Toledo.

These numbers are very orderly and neat for this space of time which has been so incredibly full of events and emotions. The one week of closing retreat in Buenos Aires, two weeks of travel and three weeks of readjusting to life in my childhood home holds quite a lot. I have went from winter to summer, from mountain ranges to sand dunes to cornfields and have engaged in many interesting conversations with unexpected people. Emotions have been all over the place including laughing while crying, crying while laughing and some surprisingly intense rage at people not holding doors open for others.

I am standing on a different shore these days - one in which the land is familiar yet the waters are mysterious and unsettled. Or perhaps it is my eyes that perceive things differently.

Upon returning home my expectations (those hopes/desires/worries which so often negatively impact how we enjoy the present) were actually amazingly accurate. The warmth of the summer sun, the familiarity of the city streets and the comfortability of being surrounded by people speaking my native tongue has been great. No words can describe the depth of my gratitude and love I felt while hugging my dad and kissing my mom after almost a year abroad. Being warmly welcomed home by my supportive and loving church community, sharing time with some of my dearest friends and walking my dog has all been indescribably wonderful. Small pleasures like seeing butterflies, using my coffee maker and eating fresh strawberries have been extremely rewarding.

Still, as days passed and the freshness of being back in the US wore off, so did some of the euphoria. I look around to such an immensely wealthy nation yet I know there are people in my very neighborhood lacking food. So many folks struggling to live healthy and fulfilled lives in a country that has so much. I am surrounded by corporations pushing me to consume and buy products that I don't need (with an estimated 5,000 advertisements a day). Now that the ads are in English again, they are much harder to tune out. I appreciate this culture that teaches self-sufficiency and independence yet I disagree with valuing speaking rather than listening, doing rather than being and individualism rather than community. These cultural values in particular are so deeply ingrained in us that we feel ashamed for silly things like taking a nap during the day or needing help from another person.

And though I truly love reconnecting with my friends and family, I am also heavy-hearted and missing those who became my friends and family in Argentina this past year.

This is a time of true transition for me. I'm happy to be back in this home and I'm sad that I said goodbye to that home. I miss Nahuel, Guada, Nico and the congregation of La Plata; I miss Sofia, Fiorela, Ari, the other kids at the comedor and my friends who put so much time and love into that community. I miss Pancha, the dog of the house and (most of) my housemates. I miss how Argentine people truly enjoy talking to strangers and that the world outside my front door felt friendlier. I miss the other American volunteers who are now back in there own home states, scattered across the US.

Yet I also feel this is exactly where I am meant to be currently. I am not supposed to throw myself into something new right away, forgetting the old. Nor should I suppress the feelings of loss as I step away from this experience. No, this is a time to slow down, to listen and to wait. To let the murkiness and emotions settle and see what rises in the wind. This is a time to listen to God, both inside myself and through the world around me to determine where I am called to go next.

It is a slow process of readjusting and integrating back into American society but I am not worried. This society urges us to move quickly but I am enjoying living a slower, simpler life before rejoining the workforce. I have faith that nature will move me along - my bicycle makes me feel healthy and happy but come winter I will be likely wanting to drive a car. Soon I should get a local phone number, go to the dentist and probably unpack that last suitcase. I am taking the days as they come, spending my time with people I care about, doing things I like and trying to deeply listen to myself and everything around me.

Because in this time period, my mid-twenties, I am making choices about my future that will lead me in a clear direction. My boat should not float around a harbor forever when there are so many winds to sail. It is time to think in the longer term, to ask what I should devote myself to and listen for the answer.

Friends, I do ask for your patience with me during this time. Maybe some days I will be overfilling with stories from this year and other times they will be locked in my daydreams. Maybe I will start too many sentences with "In Argentina..." or will not always be present. If you want to hear about my time away, I ask you to be detailed in your questions. When someone asks "how was your trip?" it is hard to give more than a one word answer. Questions like "who were some of the people you were closest to?" or "what did you do for Christmas" or "what was the city like" or "where did you see God" promotes deeper conversations.

Hopefully we can have a dialogue and not just me speaking! I want to learn about your life, your thoughts, your perspective and share equally in conversations. Because while I am full of stories and memories, I know that you are too. I want to know about the waters of your life, what your lakeshore looks like and what you are fishing for.

As for this blog, I will probably continue writing and updating. This part of my journey may be over but the next grand voyage in my life is just around the bend.

Thank you all for reading!