Pick up the pace.

26 February 2018

My story is one of restlessness with the status quo, of giant leaps of faith into unknown waters, of not letting fear make decisions for me, of trust, of throwing off everything that hinders, of adventure and joy and life to the full. It’s not doing things because I should or ought to or society says it’s time, but rather pursuing that which makes me come alive and fulfill the cry of my heart to make the world a little bit better place.

I stopped praying for clarity long ago, and when people ask how they can pray for me I will go as far as saying please don’t pray for clarity.  It was in one of Brennan Mannings’ books where Mother Teresa asked how she could pray for him, and he said clarity, and she said no I won’t pray for that.  Because you don’t need to see where you’re placing your feet when you are gripping the trusted hand of the Creator.  You don’t need clarity, you need trust.  

We’re all just trying to put one foot in front of the other and do something good with our lives, I’m sure of it.  My feet happen to take me across the globe, but also unexpected curves in the road, like this Boston season that I never could have imagined turning out as wonderful as it has.  It’s been restful and renewing and beautiful and freeing.  It’s a really nice place to visit, this place of rest, but ultimately I was created to run the race… and it’s time to pick up the pace.

I’m thrilled to share I’ve accepted the position of Country Director Liberia/Benin for an organization focused on prevention and rescue of child trafficking and child slavery in West Africa called Orphan Relief and Rescue.  It’s an organization founded by former Mercy Shippers who saw a need in the countries they served in and decided to do something about it.  I love that.   They’re growing their programs and need someone on the ground to help liaise with the government and oversee the national staff in both countries and see what kind of new projects can be launched to end the troubling epidemic of the buying and selling of children. 

I’ll be moving to Monrovia, Liberia in a few months’ time; a place I’ve never been and know no one, to work in a field I’m unfamiliar with, doing things I’m not really sure about… and the fact that that doesn’t terrify me but rather gets me excited for a new adventure was one of the biggest indicators that this is the next right thing.  I am so excited.

So once again I begin the (now familiar) process of saying goodbyes and closing out this Boston season, of packing up, deciding what to keep and what to send and what to give away, of starting over in another new place with new people and environment and social circles and living situations.  It won’t be easy but most things worth doing aren’t. 

Thank you for being a part of my story, for following the journey, for joining in adventure and pursuing life to the full.  Surely there will be much more to come.

xxk


The other side.

12 February 2018

I’ve spent the last ten days in the hospital.

No panic necessary, I’m fine and quite healthy.  I’m a subject in a research study, as an inpatient participant.  It pays well, and I have the time, so I thought (as I do with many opportunities that come my way) why not?

I’m finishing the first of two ten-day stays where the researchers manipulate my diet and environment and run various scans and tests to measure changes.  (No medications involved).  It’s fascinating, honestly.  I’ve worked in and with hospitals across the world as well as been a researcher in various settings, so to find myself on the other side of both, as a patient and participant, has been an incredibly eye-opening experience.

A few observations, in no particular order:

There’s no such thing as privacy.  I didn’t realize how difficult I would find this; I’m a private person and an introvert, and yes, I had a private room, but nurses and aides and doctors and dieticians and various other people come in anytime, at all hours.  At one point I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor, the only place I knew I’d be left alone, giving myself a pep talk (that usually goes something along the lines of you were in the peace corps, you’re a badass, you can do this) and breathing deep, centering, calming breaths. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to share a room or to be in a big, open ward. Perhaps if I was actually sick I wouldn’t care about it, but it was a challenge.

I’m willing to give up control… but I don’t like it.  No big shocker here.  To not have a choice in much, if anything, is a challenging situation, and made me appreciate when I did have choices.  And especially when it comes to food, I found myself moodier than I’ve felt since I was a teenager. I’m sure it was compounded by needle sticks and challenging sleep, but I’ll be very happy to return home where I am back in charge!  Oh, and caffeine withdrawal is also a nightmare, just saying.

Nurses are amazing people.  We all know nurses are amazing, but to interact daily with them for the last ten days really reinforced this particular fact.  They’re kind, generous, work crazy schedules, put up with demanding patients and caregivers without losing it, at least in front of me.  Mad props, nurses. Thanks for taking such great care of me.

I’m happy to be heading home in a few hours, after the last scans, and I’ll be back here in a few weeks for another ten days.  It’s not a bad gig; the wireless internet is fast, I’ve been able to make some progress on the consulting project I’ve been working on, I’ve slept a lot, I’ve watched the Olympics and Gilmore Girls, read a bit, chatted with nurses, and paced up and down the hallways like the caged animal I am. An interesting experience, anyway, and will allow me to finish up this time of #funemployment without going into debt, a huge win. 


A few photos: 

Home sweet home for 10 days


This hospital is the first to have ever done a surgery under ether anesthesia and it was done in this room, as depicted by the painting.
The other side of what is called 'the ether dome', it was actually a theater and observers would watch surgery



View of Boston from one of the windows

Life goal nearly accomplished: obi-wan is teaching me how to solve a rubiks cube. 

Flowers do make a hospital room much more enjoyable :) 

My oyster.

09 February 2018

Facebook reminded me that it was one year ago yesterday I announced to the world I had gotten my dream job at Harvard and I was moving to Boston for the foreseeable future.  I was so excited.  It was the first and only job I interviewed for after eight years of living and serving in Africa, and my return to American soil and life all seemed to be falling into place.

I moved here expecting, planning for, thinking, assuming this was the beginning of a whole new season. I packed up my life elsewhere, the boxes of memories, souvenirs, and clothing for every climate strewn in various locations across the globe.  They all converged in Boston, where I got a new phone number and bank account and drivers license and voters registration and primary care doctor and accountant and all the little things that together make up roots; plans and components to a settling down, a new life beginning, where I thought America and academia was all I could hope for and dream of.

I ran headfirst at full speed into this new thing.  But, as it turns out, it wasn’t the beginning of a new season. 

It was the tying up and completion of odds and ends to the last one. It was the dismantling of ideals, the crashing destruction of idols, a cacophony of should and ought to in the background of the dawning acceptance and understanding of who I really, truly am, and what I’ve been created to do.  It was a valiant effort to fit into a box and a realization that I won’t ever be truly happy in that box. It was a renewal of passion, a rest, a reminder of who I am and what I have to offer in relationships and to the world.

I’m so profoundly grateful.  

So many people ask some version of where do you see yourself in five or ten years and all I can do is chuckle and say all I can imagine is exactly what I’m doing today; still embracing life to the full, making the world a better place somehow, squeezing every drop of joy and goodness I can no matter where it is or what I’m doing.

And you know what? Things work out.  Somehow, usually beyond any human comprehension.  I’m no longer surprised by that fact, I’m just grateful.

I’m currently working on a project as a consultant for a global surgery organization that I’ve always been a big fan of.  I’m participating in a research study.  I’ve got a job offer I’m thrilled about and will share details in the coming weeks, once a few final questions are answered. I’m embracing every moment here in Boston, realizing that I will have to say goodbye sooner rather than later but reminding myself that no matter how short a time we have with someone special, it’s worth having. It’s looking like I’ll make it through without going into debt, somehow.  And the world is truly my oyster.

And still, every day, I wonder, how is this my life??


With gratitude.  xxk

A few random photos, because everyone likes photos....

Best margarita in the history of the world.  At least in my history. 

Boston, on a beautiful winter walk

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