Wandering But Not Lost

I will miss Korea.

When the 80's-style pop music started getting under my skin, I will never know.

I am absolutely exhausted today. I want so much to go to sleep and not wake up for days. Tomorrow is Friday, and, much like these last 5 days or so, it will be non-stop.

I fell asleep at 5 this morning, only to be woken up by the guys from Transportation- 40 minutes early. I would have been up in 10 more minutes, but that 10 minutes was really needed. I had been asleep for all of 3 hours. This afternoon, I went to turn in gear, and, well, that was a mess, but I came through it alright. I'm proud of myself for doing all of this with no help from my leadership, though I have been fortunate enough to be able to get advice and guidance from people who, you know, actually have done this stuff before. I really want to be in a unit that treats one another like family, like I thought the Army was supposed to be.

The reasons I joined the Army were family and stability. Go figure.

I'm a Gypsy. I won't ever be happy in one place, so I don't mind moving. The last two years has been the longest I've stayed in one place my entire life, and much of it was uncomfortable for me because I couldn't leave, I couldn't just pack up the car and go like I've been so accustomed to for so long. I think I can handle two years in one place after this, now it's just a matter of figuring out if I'll ever get used to being around the same people for so long. It seems unlikely.

I have been struggling to find peace within myself these last few weeks. I will be leaving the only Baha'i community I have been a part of, and I will miss them dearly. I declared as Baha'i here in Korea, and, even more because of this fact, it has become a home. This is the place I blossomed, this is the place I thrived, in spite of everything that worked against me. I was not to be held down, I grew despite the weeds.

"When one branch is cut off other branches grow." -Abdu'l-Baha, A Traveller's Narrative, p. 29 (I love the Ocean program!!!)

I was cut off from everything I knew. I was taken away from my coping mechanism- travel, or running from the situation, to be more blunt- and, when that branch was cut, the others- faith in particular, grew. Here I am, feeling more like a blooming rose than I ever have, but still scared of the transplant that's about to take place. It's odd to think that these transplants were once my means of survival. I suppose they still are, but a light never looks quite the same when you're looking directly at it, does it? Before, it was peripheral, I didn't understand that's what I was doing, or I ignored the fact that I did know it. Now that I know it, as I look right at it, well, it just doesn't look like the same path to something better that it used to, I see it for what it really is- a change.

I have been blessed with the ability to help others. I have been reminded of this two times in particular in the last 12 or so hours. One of my friends was recently sent to Germany, and she's having a hard time right now. She posted something that sounded rather frustrated on Facebook, and I was reminded of my goal to avoid going crazy by means of "Going Skippy" instead. I posted the link to Skippy's List to her page, so that she'd be able to either laugh or enjoy making others do double takes instead of letting them get to her. She commented that I'm "always so positive" and saying that's one of those things she likes about me.

ME?! POSITIVE?!

This is not a word I'm used to having attached to me, to say the least.

I appreciated the gesture, though I still have trouble reconciling this thought.

I may not be a positive person as a whole, but I am getting better about not letting things stress me out so.

The other reminder I received was just a bit ago in the grocery store. One of the teenage boys that works there has always seemed sad when I see him, so, at some point, I pointed this out to him. Now, every time I see him, I demand a smile from him. It usually gets him to laugh, though the first few times it seemed a bit awkward for him. Now, it comes pretty naturally. Today, he asked me when I was leaving, and seemed pretty disappointed that I'd be going so soon. I hadn't realized he even knew that I was coming up on that time.

"When you meet a Persian or any other stranger, speak to him as to a friend; if he seems to be lonely try to help him, give him of your willing service; if he be sad console him, if poor succour him, if oppressed rescue him, if in misery comfort him. In so doing you will manifest that not in words only, but in deed and in truth, you think of all men as your brothers." -Abdu'l-Baha, Paris Talks, p. 16

I suppose this quote brings me back around to wanting to be a part of a family. To treat all men as your brothers is a difficult feat, no doubt. I have no doubt that I have a long way to go to be the Baha'i that I can be, but, well, I'm learning. I hope that my brothers and sisters are patient enough with me to understand when I slip, so that it may be that much easier that I may help them up when it's their turn to fall.