Living

It's the middle of April.  5 weeks from today will be my last night at the Priory.  I can't believe it - it seems so surreal that my time here could end.  I think it's hardest to believe because I have no idea what's coming next in my life, so it seems almost like life can't go on after May 24.  I'm still waiting...

But the good thing about waiting this long is I've gotten used to it.  I don't expect to know anymore, so I don't worry about it.  And this new sense of acceptance has really given me peace this week.  I've been able to enjoy the little things, I've been working hard and a lot with S. Anamaria, and I've recovered a little of my sense of purpose by just being ok with where I am.  I certainly still have moments of anxiety, but they pass quickly and I'm able to conquer them more easily now.

I talked with S. Ann Marie this week about some of the challenges this year has posed, loneliness and too much peace being the biggest things.  She reminded me that in each stage of life, we learn how to deal with new challenges, and we always grow stronger and fuller from experiencing those challenges.  I have learned how to find fulfillment in solitary activities like reading and knitting, and I have learned both to be ok with being alone and to have the courage to reach out to people when I need them. 

I also have learned how to take opportunities as they come - something my best friends would be pleasantly surprised to hear.  I have grown much more flexible in making plans and even carrying out plans, and I have accepted the inevitability - and positivity - of change.  If someone invites me to do something five minutes before we have to go, I am thrilled to accept - something I had a really difficult time doing in college.  Having a less-demanding schedule has really helped me grow in openness.

The other subject I wanted to write about today is S. Anamaria.  She is leaving only a week after I am, and her transition back to Tanzania is going to be so incredibly much bigger than my transition home, four states away.  She has been working so hard this whole year, and just yesterday she received the news that she has been selected to present her thesis at Scholar's Day, which is an enormous honor.  We have been working all week on creating and polishing her presentation so she will be ready to speak to both her scholastic committee and the public who will attend.  People have started RSVPing for her graduation party, and two of her Tanzanian sisters who are studying in the US will be staying with us for a few days surrounding graduation day.  It is such a huge, amazing accomplishment for this woman who came from incredibly adverse circumstances, arrived in America speaking almost no English, didn't intend to go to college, began her education by studying accounting, and has now found a true, deep passion for teaching the children of her country in an effective and nurturing way.  I think back on my college graduation, not quite a year ago now, and remember how big and important it felt to have earned a bachelor's degree.  Now, I try to multiply that feeling by a thousand to understand how Anamaria must feel.  I am truly amazed by her work ethic, her perseverance, her strength, and most of all, her courage.  I will miss her - and especially how she laughs with complete abandon - so much.

My lesson for today is to keep living each day with intention - to love and appreciate every moment and every opportunity that comes my way.  I read Isak Dinesen's Out of Africa in September, and a quote has just come back to me about the way the she described how the Kikuyu people she lived with experienced time.  To paraphrase:  "When you ask a Kikuyu to wait with your horse while you go in to visit, he is more than happy to accept.  And he hopes you will be a very long time, because he does not waste time or kill it.  Instead, the Kikuyu sits down and lives."  I want to emulate both my sister Anamaria and the Kikuyu people - not dread or plan or worry for the future, but simply live.

Peace and love!