A view from a roof in Port au Prince



“All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways.”
― Yan Martel

Scorched for depth. Searching for meaning. Running through the hallways of my mind and not finding the room I want to enter. I used to wake up with peace despite havoc that consumed the building, town, and country I lived in. From the minute I wake up until I practically hypnotize myself to sleep at night, I'm racing around either mentally or physically trying to make sure I stay busy, stay fulfilled, stay purposeful. Most of the time this is a failed attempt. Most likely just due to poor effort. If I am watching music videos, facebook updating, shopping, or excercising to keep myself busy... what gain can I expect?

If it's a phase, it's okay. If it's a year or two... or three even(?) of feeling this way and just getting through the grit of life to make way for something else- then I can do it. I'm game. I'll work hard now and get done what needs to get done. But the thought that makes me queasy is, what if this is life?

I hate this race of life and of searching and acheiving bigger and better. I had a quick panic a few nights ago that I better go back to grad school soon or I might not ever go back. Then, I thought, but for what? I don't even want to be a nurse practitioner or to be involved in management. I also don't want to teach. Pretty much I just want to go back to say I did it. To know I achieved something more noteworthy than I already have achieved. Even that realization wasn't enough to dissuade me to think I better go back.
I didn't choose it. At least I don't think I did. By luck or unluck, I got signed up 5 years ago when I was a first year nursing student. I blindly walked into Haiti and since that first car ride through the streets from the airport to the town of Leogane, my heart was exposed to raw poverty and through those new sights, smells, faces, rythyms, tears, friendships, questions, and realizations about what I was experiencing, I changed. I found something I never knew was in the cards for me. I never imagined I would end up finding so much purpose in a place when I didn't even know where it was on the map until I had my ticket booked. Maybe it's not even necessarily Haiti. Maybe it could be any number of poor places, just places that value people, family and community a little more than the good 'ole US of A. I watched Eat Pray Love last night and I there was a quote about how Americans don't know the pleasure of doing nothing, that they work to hard and don't enjoy life. I agree.

I'm a goal setter and future planner and I love these things. Now they frustrate me because it could be anything or nothing. I could waste my days away and no one would stop me or take notice. And I don't want to stop and take a look around years from now and realize I've been wishing my time away. I don't want to waste it, not even this year or this month or this week. It's precious, my time. I just want to give this life my best shot.

This is a scramble of a blogpost. Mostly complaints and rants, and maybe heavy and not the lifter I'd like to give to other people, but that's just what I've got to say today. Maybe I'm repetitive. I know most of these thoughts are not completely new. I've probably said the same thing in different ways dozens of times. So here's for time #13.

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