Here, There, and Everywhere

    Close your eyes. Imagine you are at a pool area soaking in the warm summer sun. This is the life, you think. And it is, it's not always perfect, but it's pretty close. Suddenly, you feel a strong conviction to jump into the water. You've never done that before. It might be cold. It might be horrible. It might wonderful. But you don't know. Unknowns are often the some of the scariest things we face in life.

     You try to compromise. Carefully you lower yourself into the water. This experience is like no other. It's uncomfortable, weird, new, and exhausting. But you aren't brave enough to let go-- to get all wet.

     By now, you've probably guessed that I'm not talking about pools exactly. I'm trying to paint a picture of transitions. At this point in the story our sun-bathing friend has made it halfway into the water.  She now has two choices: she can either let go, and fully embrace this new life, or she can pull out. Her arms are not strong enough to continue holding herself half-in and half-out.

It's such a hard decision.  

      Do I let go of everything I know and love, do I run the risk of forgetting what I once was, to give my new situation the chance it deserves? Or, do I prioritize what I left behind and spend my days remembering.

     On this side of the ocean, I feel like the girl who has jumped into the pool completely. It was a shock, an unforgettable memory, re-defining. Now, I am out of the water and the sun isn't the same. I can lie in the exact same spot and turn with every ding of the timer, but now I'm wet. I'm not the same. True, I am the same person, but the water has a place in my life as shown by the constant stream of pearly drops down my face.

     Being immersed in a different culture will do that to you. Parts of it can creep up on you and sneak into your life. That country, those people, that world, sticks to you like peanut butter. Our bodies are made to adapt. We grow accustomed to things we would never have thought possible. Sadly, however, I feel myself un-adapt bit by bit. I lose contact with my village life and I begin to forget.

 "I don't want to forget!!" I yell. 

     I'll have to fight it,  walk against the current saying:"God used this crazy plunge to mold me. I will not smooth it all out". God has a plan for me even though sometimes the phrase 'this world is not my home'  bites with reality.