poppies

The other day I got a care package from some of the sweetest of humans back home. Among the things in this care package were two Carmex lip balms. I pocketed the one that immediately caught my eye, and I went along my way. I haven't really stopped using the Carmex despite the fact that my lips really do not need it. Actually, Niku asked me the other day why I was using it so much, and it was only then that I realized that it reminded me so strongly of home, of grandma. So, that being said, I started this blog post about two months ago. The poppies have long gone with the summer heat, but this post never seemed good enough to post. It never seemed to fully reflect what I was thinking, and I'm still not sure that it does. However, if you feel so inclined, read on.

I didn't take many pictures this week, but I did get this picture featuring PennyT Beads in the Osumi Canyon.

The other day, I saw a poppy for the first time here in Albania. So many thoughts came rushing back to me.

I bought a ticket to go to Europe on a whim. No, I bought a Eurail pass on a whim. It was on sale, so I still stand by the purchase. Some people stress eat, apparently, I stress travel. So I bought a ticket to Europe, so as to use the aforementioned Eurail pass, a couple of months later. Then, I went. I went with little to no plan of what I was going to do in Europe whatsoever. I had a ticket there, a ticket to get to a nonspecific string of somewheres, and a ticket home three weeks later.

So let's back up, nearly two years ago I got a call that would be the beginning of a long, tiring, trying time in my life. It was also, however, a time of growth, or perhaps more so, a realization and a practice of strength. I remember many days sitting beside my grandma's bed reminiscing about the lifetime of memories with her that I have carried with me all these years. Over those months, I saw incredible strength, immeasurable grace, miraculous wit. Those months are just a series of moments that left marks on my impressionable mind.

Seriously so much love from Kansas. Actually cried at the coffee shop when I opened this package. I'm fine, it's fine, everything is fine, and my lips are oh so hydrated.

I remember the day I confessed my deepest fears, knowing that I may never get the chance again. I remember the weeks leading up to this moment where I hyped myself up and rehearsed all that I needed to say to make sure that I didn't forget a single thing. I remember telling my grandma that I was terrified of the unknown, and that I knew that fear was nailing my feet to the ground and my eyes to the top of a mountain I would never reach.

I remember the day she told me to go and be happy. She told me to chase my dreams and leave the worries behind. She told me that happiness was the most important thing. I remember the day I decided that I would chase happiness. That the security of standing still wasn't worth more moments of my life. Progress had to be made, whether I fell along the way or not.

So I went to Europe. Something called me to a tiny town in the north of France called Bayeaux. I convinced Jess that it was a good idea to hop on the train that night and explore the town that my mother had told me so much about. I wanted to visit a shop where everything was painted, embroidered, what have you, with poppies. So we got on the train, and arrived in Bayeaux just as the sun was sinking below the distant hills.

As it turns out, Bayeaux has basically 7 inhabitants, no buses, and a taxi, but you had to call it. Panic set in quickly as it was growing steadily darker, and the cellphone service was just as sparse as the houses on the horizon. Finally, a friendly woman called the cab for us, and we set off to a suburb of Bayeaux for our AirB&B, which, it turns out, was all but impossible to find. Several kind people, numerous panicked and spotty phone calls home, probably a solid mile of wandering down rural, unmarked roads, and extreme danger of dehydration due to excessive tears later, we made it to the AirB&B.

"Wait, this is really good fruit"

Turns out, Bayeaux is beautiful, and the poppy shop was just as adorable as my mother had said, but that's not the point. The point is that I made it. I went on a random, arguably inadvisable, adventure in search of something beautiful, in search of something that connected me with my mom, or, as I now realize after 6 months living abroad, I was in search of something that connected me with my family back home. The journey was rough. I thought I would be sleeping on the side of the road. I was scared, lost, confused, tired, angry. But I made it.

This story may sound stupid, random, even unimportant, but for me, this was a moment, probably the first moment in my life, where I realized the bounds of my strength. I am much stronger, mentally of course, let's not get carried away here, than I think. I also realized the depths of my resilience. It took about 4 seconds of being safely in our AirB&B for my angry, nervous tears to turn into tears of laughter. Then I realized something about life itself. If you are willing to chase after happiness, beauty, adventure, what have you, the worst thing that could happen is that you will have to ask for help. That's all.

So whenever I fall, I remember the poppies that await me at the top of the mountain, and I start looking for the help I need to get back up.

Back to real time now, I have opened this draft and added, deleted, little bits here and there for the past two months. It feels a little vulnerable, a little too personal, and I just haven't been ready to share these moments with the world. Not that anything in this post is particularly intimate, it was just a conversation with my grandmother after all. However, it is particularly important in my life. It is particularly central to the way I choose to live my life, and I think that's what gave me pause. At the same time though, I think it's important to be vulnerable in ways that help others understand the way my mind works.

So here I am in Albania, and if there is one thing that I do every day, it's fall. On the road, at work, in my relationships, what have you, I make mistakes, sometimes rather large ones, that require so much help to correct. Right now, I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. I feel like I'm just waiting for the day that I can make progress again, but I also feel like the wait has already been so long. So instead, I've decided to work like there's nothing in my way, but to also relish in the summer sun, the coolness of the river, and the company of those I hold closest, like I am running out of time. I've realized that it's a balancing act. If I hold dear the beautiful pieces of my life, I don't have time to be frustrated with how slowly I feel that I am moving, but instead, I relish in the roadblocks that remind me to use my time to chase happiness.