I was at a lovely party on New Years, chatting with friends and suddenly the conversation shifted to their excitement for 2012. In that moment of my friends' excitement, I felt a sadness. I found myself struggling to appreciate the closing of the past year that challenged me in so many different ways. I felt nostalgia for the sand of which the last grains were trickling through the narrow path of the hour glass.
I went to Paris, Vietnam, and Cambodia; I met, - and parted with - some of the people who will forever hold a place in my heart; I learned an immense amount about myself, about the world, and about the Lord, throughout the whole year. And so it is that I can't help but feel sad that 2011 is over.
It's like the feeling of closing a book that you know you'll never read again, - and let me tell you: it was one hell of a book!
I started off the year excited for the adventure ahead, though still unsure how it would all come together, and living my daily life with the expectation of something so grand I couldn't comprehend it: I was leaving home, to be on the other side of the world for six months. I was in a place that I loved my life; I was enjoying it, but supposedly preparing to leave. Those were some of the hardest goodbyes of my life. In that moment I learned something, - something to which, I can't quite put words. Leaving was probably the hardest thing I've ever done.
I laid eyes - FEET on Paris! For three months, it was the city I called home. And though my months away made me realize Minneapolis is my true home, a place that I've grown to love like family, Paris was perfect for me. I loved every minute of it. Minus the hours of walking the city in the rain...but that's another story. I got to look at La Tour Eiffel whenever I wanted. I saw a 30,000 euro need go down to an 18,000 euro need in a matter of a week.
I even find myself with a Vietnam-shaped hole in my heart. (I could go to Antarctica and miss it, I'm so dang sentimental.) The times there were harder than Paris, but there was something even more blessed to them. In my memory, the constant threat of cockroaches doesn't even come to mind - it's the people, the ocean, the personalities of each of the cities.
I braved a new country alone when I hopped a RyanAir flight to Ireland for four days before returning to the States. I wandered and explored, drank Guinness, ate amazing food, kissed an Irishman - a story for another time, - cried on a cliff because of the beauty of the Irish Sea, and slept on the floor of an airport.
I hyperventilated walking from my plane through the MSP airport, thinking about the reality of seeing my family. Not unlike the seeming illusion of going to Paris in the first place, I wasn't sure if I'd been dreaming, or believe a cruel farce. But they were real.
And now, as February creeps around again, I'm left wondering if my trip was even real.
There was no return U.S. culture shock for me, I was happy to have it. The lifestyle of the first half of my year were competing with the one I returned to at home. It was hard not to worry about money when I returned with almost none, to waiting bills, and the goal to find an apartment ASAP. It was hard not to want to go out a lot, since I became a legal drinker five days after my return. It was hard to go back to school when achievement is my least concern, and I learned so much more in the previous six months.
I missed biking. Biking has been great.
The return was difficult, and though maybe no one noticed, at times it was painful. It was many times harder than I anticipated. Though, hard as it has been in these months, I feel like I've learned so much here as well. And again, not all things I can fully verbalize or articulate necessarily, nor am I aware of, but I know that in life the difficulty is just as important as the glory.
Returning to the life that felt on hold may not have been what I expected, but good came of it, and it taught me things. I made new friends that I wouldn't trade for anything. I knocked it out of the park this semester, as far as my U of M track record is concerned (mixed metaphors, sorry). I've learned even more what I believe and how to stand for it. I've learned who to spend my time with and how it affects me. I've learned and I'm still learning how to hold onto the growth I've achieved, and move forward with it from the place I am now.
Between the three parts of my 2011, it was a year that for me is hard to follow. I go into this year, expectant that the Lord will exponentially top my 2011 with goodness, growth, and joy.
To 2012: let's see what ya got!
