A year ago today

A year ago today I took my first steps on the 150 mile trek that is the Camino Santiago. I remember waking up in the morning, and in my jet-lagged stupor, I honestly had no idea where I was. Once I figured it out, I simply thought, "Ok, let's do this" and jumped out of bed. As if this was just another morning. Maybe if I had thought about it more I would have realized the gravity of the journey I was about to embark upon. Maybe if I had thought about it more I never would have gotten out of bed.

A year ago today was the beginning of me getting reacquainted with myself. I have learned so many new things about myself the past few years and that's been great, but in the midst of that I somehow forgot things that I already knew to be true. I had forgotten how much I love being in other countries, particularly in western Europe. I had forgotten how much joy it brings me to hear other languages being spoken. No matter if I understand what's being said, sometimes it's better to just sit back and enjoy the symphony of new and unfamiliar sounds. I had forgotten how goal-oriented I am, and didn't realize how not having goals was slowly and silently killing my spirit. All I needed was the simple goal of getting to Santiago to remind me how driven I can be. The goal was to get to Santiago, and by golly, I was going to get there. No amount of lost toenails or ankles the size of a grapefruit was going to stop me. I think I surprised my fellow pilgrims with my resilience and, if I'm honest, I kinda surprised myself too.

A year ago today, I set out on a life-changing journey. It sounds cliche, but it's true. The Camino helped me realize that while I had come to love my home in Charlottesville, my soul longed to be in California. The Camino was the stepping stone into pursuing a career in ESL. Essentially, the Camino changed where I live and what I do with my 9 to 5. Would I have discovered these things, would I have made the same life changes if I hadn't walked the Camino? I really don't know the answer to that question, but I really don't need to know. All I know is that I'm doing my best to follow my yellow arrows. Sure, I'm going to stumble along the way, and I'm sure I've already missed a few turns here and there. But as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, and as long as I have others walking alongside me, I think I'll be alright.

Changes

The last time I updated this blog, I had recently come back from overseas, was working for a collegiate missions organization, and living in southern California. I am now writing as an aide for the kindergarten classes at a local elementary school, and living in central Virginia. Needless to say, the last few years have been full of changes, some expected and some not so much. The last few years have been full of dichotomies; it's been easy and hard, joyful and depressing, stressful and relaxing. It's been a time of finding out how much I can really handle, and how I react when life throws me curve balls. I think most of all though, it's been a time of deep community, of being loved when I didn't deserve it, of being gently guided when I'd lost my way. And for that I couldn't be more grateful. And for that it's hard to leave this strange place that has become home. I've been accepted to a program in San Fransisco that will certify me to teach ESL, so I will be moving back to California this summer. I'm excited about the program and the potential doors that it could open. I'm excited about starting a career that combines a few of my passions and that I think I will really love. I'm scared of failing, of starting over, of the unknown. I'm sad to leave the place that I've learned to call home, and happy to be returning to the place that I think I always knew was home. Drastic changes have marked the past few years, drastic changes are now on my horizon again. Sometimes I think I won't be able to handle it, and that I just want to stay in my little bubble forever. But that's not where the good stories come from. That's not the place where you learn about yourself and the One who holds you. And that's not the place where I want to live. So here's to the future, to the unknown, to a new adventure.