A lot of people have been asking me what I plan to bring with me to Armenia. They ask, "Is there a list?" And I chuckle, saying, "Well, if there is I haven't really gotten around to checking items off". I'm pretty sure there is a suggested list. I should start looking into that...
In my opinion (and they are ever so prevalent) what is most important to bring with me to Armenia is myself. If I forget my underwear, which is a possibility -I have done this- at first I may be upset. But I will find some new small clothes and life will go on. But if I forget to bring me, and all my brain tools, then I'm in trouble.
BRAIN TOOLS?! That's right. The tools in my brain, that have supported me throughout trials and tribulations, are my most important item. And luckily they won't take up room in my luggage. Yay! Yoga and meditation are my greatest brain tools. For those of you sitting there thinking, uh Carolyn- yoga is not in your brain, well I beg to differ. Yoga has been one of the most important healing tools in my life. Anyone that has experienced true yoga is a practitioner and believer for life, whether they are devout or not. I'm sure there are those reading this who think I'm out of my fucking mind at the moment. Poo-poo I say to you. Knock not what you have yet to experience, young blood.
There is something sacred and spiritual that happens during personal yoga practice that is often hard to achieve inside a studio class, and even more specifically inside of a general gym yoga class. Then you come across those teachers that have the innate ability to quite your mind, if only for an hour or so. And if you're really special, you will be fortunate enough to find a mentor. (One dear friend of mine is of this fortune and I had the opportunity to practice with them both, it was splendid). The wild thing about the practice and the teacher who succeeds in getting their students past themselves, is that you only realize it after. The ancient healing practice is meant to open, stretch, heal and warm not only our bodies but our minds as well.
So, this I plan to take with me. And essential oils lavender and eucalyptus, because they bring me to a state of comfort and euphoria within a few minutes of deep inhalations. One thing I will say though, not having a bathtub in my life, and the privacy/time to lounge in one, will be a lack of luxury that I know will sting.
Another brain tool is my optimism and faith in people. Some may see this as a weakness, that another more shrewd individual will take advantage of this naivete. This is not entirely untrue. Some folks must always search for a way to have the upper hand, so that they feel powerful, important, etc. Unfortunately for them, the majority of their life meaning lies within digital numbers on a computer screen or unnecessary material objects. I am making an informed decision to approach life otherwise. Living a life of fear is not one at all. Fear takes on a lot of shapes and colors. And there are certainly things I fear, but getting hurt or duped is not one of them. It turns out that when you open yourself to others, they sense this intuitively and will often do the same. Sadly, once this has happened there is a labyrinth of emotional sensitivity to navigate afterwards. Things can, and will, get messy and uncomfortable when you engage with others; thus is life.
I would so much rather have truly known a person, even in their ugliness, than to not understand their life experience for fear of getting hurt.
These things I will take with me to Armenia.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Plan B
Happy Super Bowl! Yay for the great American past-time, eating and drinking in excess!! But, really Nicki Minaj and M.I.A.? Performing with Madonna for the halftime show? Oh and yes, go New York!
To be clear, I am an officially registered JETS fan - but I'll always root for my home state.
Anywho, Plan B. If you've been following my musings since the get-go, or if you have the great pleasure and privilege of my intimate friendship, you would know I had some not-so-realistic hopes for life after Peace Corps. But before opening that can of worms let's back up some. I may have mentioned my self-proclaimed romanticism before, I'm not too sure, but I'll state it again. I am a proud romantic. I care not if you think I am foolish, I think you're boring. I recently discovered the scientific term 'right-brained' to further explain my tendencies. Here is a sweet depiction. Needless to say, I am in love with the idea of love. Not the 'find someone manageable, make babies and graduate into a new tax bracket' type of deal. I mean that silly shit you see in the movies. I know, I know. I should be a Big Girl now and get over it. Yea... I'll have to get back to you on that.
What was Plan A, you ask? It went something like this "I'll go into the Peace Corps in 2011, meet Mr. Right because I'm SO over Mr. Right Now (kill me for using that terminology). He will hopefully be a down-to-earth, good natured, trust fund baby (ha!) that falls truly, madly, deeply in love with me and I with him. Upon our return we will move in with one another and by then, my 26 year old ring finger will be ripe for some financial commitment. Graduate school, wedding, career, and babies to follow in that exact order." Now for my male audience let this be a warning. There are always exceptions to the rule, but after 25, most straight women are on a baby mission. Whether that means having a baby soon or securing the inevitable seed. It's evolutionary biology for godsakes. Also, we LOVE to plan for the future. Put that under the same label.
Now here's the dilemma - the silly shit you see in the movies love part came before the Peace Corps. I tried, gosh danggit did I try, to hold out for that good-natured trust fund baby. We can all dream. As Shakespeare said "Love is merely a madness... and deserves a dark house and whip as madmen do." In my madness I cooked up some fantastic hopes for my beloved and I. But, as with all dreaming you soon awake. Maintaining a relationship while in separate countries for nearly three years is a far cry from realistic. Awaken we did and, as romantically as our circumstance allows, we agreed to approach our lives more sanely. Not unexpectedly, I've been feeling some self pity. Then one afternoon about two weeks later, I realized how to cure my madness.
All this time I thought I would find love in the Peace Corps. After Dan and I got together, that plan got squashed. Then, I had an epiphany in the bathtub (where all of my most important realizations occur). I needed a Plan B. Instead of trying to fall out of love, I would simply transfer the focus. Plan B = falling in love with Peace Corps. All of my romantic energy is now going to be concentrated into the experience and mission itself - not another person. What that will actually mean, I'm not entirely sure. But, I am already beginning to have hot sexy dreams about Armenia.
Just kidding.
To be clear, I am an officially registered JETS fan - but I'll always root for my home state.
Anywho, Plan B. If you've been following my musings since the get-go, or if you have the great pleasure and privilege of my intimate friendship, you would know I had some not-so-realistic hopes for life after Peace Corps. But before opening that can of worms let's back up some. I may have mentioned my self-proclaimed romanticism before, I'm not too sure, but I'll state it again. I am a proud romantic. I care not if you think I am foolish, I think you're boring. I recently discovered the scientific term 'right-brained' to further explain my tendencies. Here is a sweet depiction. Needless to say, I am in love with the idea of love. Not the 'find someone manageable, make babies and graduate into a new tax bracket' type of deal. I mean that silly shit you see in the movies. I know, I know. I should be a Big Girl now and get over it. Yea... I'll have to get back to you on that.
What was Plan A, you ask? It went something like this "I'll go into the Peace Corps in 2011, meet Mr. Right because I'm SO over Mr. Right Now (kill me for using that terminology). He will hopefully be a down-to-earth, good natured, trust fund baby (ha!) that falls truly, madly, deeply in love with me and I with him. Upon our return we will move in with one another and by then, my 26 year old ring finger will be ripe for some financial commitment. Graduate school, wedding, career, and babies to follow in that exact order." Now for my male audience let this be a warning. There are always exceptions to the rule, but after 25, most straight women are on a baby mission. Whether that means having a baby soon or securing the inevitable seed. It's evolutionary biology for godsakes. Also, we LOVE to plan for the future. Put that under the same label.
Now here's the dilemma - the silly shit you see in the movies love part came before the Peace Corps. I tried, gosh danggit did I try, to hold out for that good-natured trust fund baby. We can all dream. As Shakespeare said "Love is merely a madness... and deserves a dark house and whip as madmen do." In my madness I cooked up some fantastic hopes for my beloved and I. But, as with all dreaming you soon awake. Maintaining a relationship while in separate countries for nearly three years is a far cry from realistic. Awaken we did and, as romantically as our circumstance allows, we agreed to approach our lives more sanely. Not unexpectedly, I've been feeling some self pity. Then one afternoon about two weeks later, I realized how to cure my madness.
All this time I thought I would find love in the Peace Corps. After Dan and I got together, that plan got squashed. Then, I had an epiphany in the bathtub (where all of my most important realizations occur). I needed a Plan B. Instead of trying to fall out of love, I would simply transfer the focus. Plan B = falling in love with Peace Corps. All of my romantic energy is now going to be concentrated into the experience and mission itself - not another person. What that will actually mean, I'm not entirely sure. But, I am already beginning to have hot sexy dreams about Armenia.
Just kidding.
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