How (NOT) To Ruin Something That You Love

Those who have succeeded at anything and don't mention luck are kidding themselves.  ~Larry King

There are things that I love to do... drive, cook, read, write, knit, laugh, etc. This is me in a nutshell. If I can't do these things, I don't know who I am.

The other day in a bout of stupidity/laziness/not paying attention, I ruined something that I love. Cooking. Luckily, I love cooking so much that even after my accident I wanted to create something yummy. I managed to cut (deeply) the meaty part of my palm the other night. It required ten stitches (two of which were internal). I was lucky that I didn't cut my fingers off, as the knife was new and really sharp. I have since downgraded to a "lesser" knife, with hopes of conquering my fear to go back to the good knife someday.

I was lucky to have Beth with me, both at the house and in the emergency room. She kept me laughing and less focused on my injury. I was so angry at myself. The whole time I was just thinking of how good my lunch was going to be the next day, if I was able to complete the task at hand (no pun intended).

I got up the next morning and continued cooking my lunch for that day. I needed assistance with somethings: opening something, chopping garlic, grinding salt and pepper into the pan. In the end, it was delicious. I refused to let this injury/setback ruin my love for cooking. Cooking puts me in a zone of relaxation that I can't describe. I love creating something for everyone to share.

Don't try this at home... it's how you ruin something that you love.

Running Away Toward Something

One way to stop a runaway horse is to bet on him. ~Jeffery Bernard 

In all honesty, I never pictured myself as a successful person. I don't really have any talents like singing or playing an instrument. I can't draw. I like to cook, but I could never make a life of it. Almost all of my friends were over-achievers. I was an average student, not even above-average... just average. I went to community college after high school and just took a bunch of classes that I found interesting. I didn't feel drawn to any particular major. For a while I wanted to write a book, and maybe I still do. I thought I would be a good counselor or social worker, but I hated college and decided not to finish. I realized my frustrations of wanting to work with people, but having no college degree. This annoys me. Why do you need a higher education to help people? I don't get it.

I  have always wanted to live and work in a third world country... which I am at the end of doing now. I have spent my last eighteen months in Guatemala, and I love my job, my co-workers, the purpose for which I'm working. I love the community of La Limonada and am happy that the folks there know who I am and that they trust me. I love that my kids love learning English in my classes. Part of me wants to do this forever... but part of me wants to move back to the States. Right now it's an internal struggle, and I have decided to step back here in Guate and return to the States... at least for a little while.

My mom has always, lovingly, called me a 'gypsy'. My move to Guatemala wasn't the first time I had just packed up and moved somewhere. I love a challenge. I hate packing and unpacking, but the moving part has never really bothered me. I'm okay with abandoning all of my possessions and taking up whatever new things I encounter. I'm not into fancy things. I'm a hippie at heart. I can easily adapt to nearly any situation.

When I started this process of living overseas about three years ago, I didn't know what I would be getting myself into. Part of me was following a dream. Part of me was running away from the corporate world that I had grown to hate. I have always known that 'normal' was not a part of me, and I struggled to maintain whatever normalcy I had. It was exhausting, and it wasn't me. So I became the 'gypsy' my mom always believed me to be. The idea of settling down scares me... but I know that its inevitable. Someday, I will have to stop.

Or do I??

When I Grow Up...

“When I grow up I want to be a little boy.” Joseph Heller

I recently noticed something about myself. I don't generally ask kids what they want to be when they grow up. Sometimes I find myself seeing them as one thing or another in the years to come. For example, I have a very smart kid in my class. Several months ago, I told him that I thought that he was so smart that he could easily grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer. He told me that he wanted to be a chef, because he wants to open a restaurant of authentic Guatemalan food so that everyone would know how good it is. Last year, I said the same thing to one of the girls in my class, also super smart. She told me that she wanted to be a secretary. This surprised me... her reason being that she would get to use a computer and wear high heels. I'm so proud of these kids.

I remember being a kid and having people ask me what I wanted to be... this was a loaded question for me. I always thought that life was such a long time that I might be able to do lots of things and live in lots of places. Today, I wrote some of these things down, the things that I really remember being interested in.

I wanted to be:
~an astronaut... because I loved the movie 'Space Camp' and thought it would be cool to see the Earth from space.
~a pilot... because I thought it would be cool to fly.
~a veterinarian... because every kid wants to be on at some point.
~a librarian... because my second mom was one, and I really loved books (and still do).
~a prosecuter... because I wanted to put away bad guys.
~a writer... because I loved to write poetry, and now writing is one of my favorite things to do.
~a social worker... because I know how hard it is to grow-up in a disfunctional home.
~a boxer... because I'm intrigued by the sport.
~a travel writer... because I love to travel and to write.
~a food critic... because I love to try new things.
~a truck driver... because I love a roadtrip.
~a chiropractor... because I believe that the body is capable of healing itself when properly aligned.
~a mom... because I thought that it was what I was supposed to want.

I wonder if everyone does this... or if they know exactly what they want to do for the rest of their lives. For the last few years, I wanted to live in a foreign country in an impoverished community. I have spent the last nineteen months doing just that... and I have loved just about every moment of it. What a cool thing that I got to do when I chose to actually do what I WANTED to do instead of what I was 'supposed' to do.

To be honest, I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. Sometimes this makes me feel like a failure, because I feel like I'm procrastinating the inevitable. Most days, I am very thankful that I don't have a "normal" life.

Chapters

"One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching." ~Unknown

I'm currently in the middle of making a life-changing decision. Several years ago, I decided to sell all of my possessions, find new homes for my pets, and move to a third-world country. Now, I'm deciding whether or not it is time to move back to the States for a period of time. Unfortunately, working in the environment that I am in now is extremely draining; mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. My decision to move home is for sanity purposes, and to have some time to relax and get my head on straight.

My concern in this decision is, first and foremost, that I don't want to abandon my students or co-workers here in Guatemala. La Limonada is a place that gets in your head and refuses to leave. My students are a constant part of me, and often flow through my thoughts. One student in particular is of great concern to me. She has become a very important part of my daily life, and the thought of not seeing her everyday worries me.

Another concern of mine, is whether or not I am failing in the mission that I set out on almost four years ago. The plan was to always be an asset in whatever situation I ended up in... as of right now, I'm feeling like more of a burden. Maybe 'burden' isn't the right word. I feel that my presence here is no longer needed, and also I am just so exhausted. I always thought that I could hold things together, but I'm finding myself in a place where I'm just constantly stressed out. I have never been a person to stay in a situation where I would be unhappy. This is what I'm faced with right now. It's a hard thing to contend with.

Is this a failure?

I ask this question knowing that our lives come and go in 'chapters'. A friend (who was also involved with the community that I'm currently involved in) recently told me that the chapters of our lives have to come to an end at some point... "and that's okay". I think that these are the words that I needed to hear. A person can't take care of others if they don't take care of themselves first. This is a lesson that took me years to learn.

Over-Thinking the Situation

fail·ure [feyl-yer]: a subnormal quantity or quality; an insufficiency

I have been wanting to blog, or at least put something down that I could re-read, about failing. I realize that this is kind of a depressing topic, but I feel strongly about getting some things straight... I enjoy the potential topics of discussion that will follow.

I live outside the box... so far outside the box, in fact, that I can't even see the box. I'm unsettled. I thrive in chaos. I love to be on the go. I don't really have the desire to own anything... ever. I don't want to get married or have children (although I would love to adopt someday). I love to travel with no destination. I want to go with the flow. I want to be a cooler person than I am.

American society has put us all in these neat little boxes. We are supposed to grow up and go to college and marry that guy that you dated there and have some kids. Then we would buy a house in the suburbs and have matching cars. Our kids would go to school, and do activities such as ballet and soccer. This idea blows my mind. I admire people who do this. I can't see myself doing this at all.

Much to the disappointment of my mother, I don't really believe in marriage... it's not so much that as I don't believe in divorce, which is why I don't believe in marriage. I can't imagine myself finding a person and knowing that this person is the one that I am supposed to be with for the rest of my life. As a product of divorce, the potential for a life-long marriage seems unrealistic to me. I have had some examples of long marriages, and they amaze me. I love these people and admire the strength that it takes to keep a marriage going for thirty, forty, and even fifty years. I tip my had to them.

I can't imagine creating a life. This isn't just having a baby, or raising a kid. It's creating a human being, who will someday have opinions and possibly use those opinions to influence others. Seriously... that's a lot of power. I'm really just afraid of screwing them up and having them resent me for their entire lives.

I think too much. This is my 'fail'. But isn't it better to think too much than not at all. So many people have kids and don't realize how hard it is. I know it's hard, and that's why I don't want to do it.

Going back to our definition of 'failure', I like to think that I have succeeded. My success is knowing what I want. And if I don't know what I DO want, I definitely know what I DON'T want. And that's okay.

Success of a Failure

It is a mistake to suppose that men succeed through success; they much oftener succeed through failures. Precept, study, advice, and example could never have taught them so well as failure has done. ~Samuel Smiles

In many ways, I am a failure. I was ashamed of this fact for many years. Today, I am 37 years old. I'm single and have no children. I don't own any property. My car (a purple PT Cruiser) is being loaned out to friends while I am living in Guatemala. I have no pets. I don't really own anything. My possessions include a three year old laptop, a lot of second-hand clothing, a handfull of unfinished knitting projects, some books, and a journal. I also have a great pillow and a blanket bought for me by my dad a few years back, which I take everywhere. Yep, that's it.

I wasn't a great student in school. I went onto community college and got great grades, but never committed to any special ambition. I have had many, many jobs... none of which really drew me in whole-heartedly. I have had several relationships, long and short-term. These ended in broken hearts and hurt feelings. Maybe I'm was just feeling sorry for myself, but I have felt like a failure for most of my life.

I can honestly say that I have grown from all of these experiences. I have no regrets. I have had some great experiences and met some really amazing people, a lot of whom I still call 'friends'.

I'm currently living in Guatemala City, Guatemala... I gave up the 'FAIL' part of my life and started embracing my gifts. I love my life here in Guate. I have always dreamt of living in a third world country, and have been doing so for the past eighteen months. I have laughed harder, cried deeper, and loved stronger than I ever thought possible.

I have come to learn several things about myself, of which I will continue to share throughout this blog. I admit that there are days where I still feel like a failure. However, there are more days (especially these days) where I feel like the luckiest person alive, because of the lifestyle that I have chosen for myself.