Today marks 1 year
since I was invited to become a Peace Corps Volunteer, and 5 months since I arrived in Moldova. When you have concrete
markers like this, it seems to require reflection.
I have been putting off
writing about this topic for several weeks, but I suppose today is as good a
time as any. Given the amount of change in my life and hometown over the past
few years, I’ve been thinking a lot about why we look forward to change or
dread it. As I was searching through my phone photos for the screen shot of my
Peace Corps invitation letter that I took a year ago, I spent probably an hour
scrolling through photos from the past 4 years. So many wonderful memories, and
also some really terrible ones. Beautiful sights, good friends, yummy food, as
well as the loss of a dear mentor, the loss of my job and home, career
disappointment, and nostalgia for a hometown that no longer exists in the way I wish it did. Coincidentally, today I wore a pair of socks I bought
when I worked at a retail clothing store for a few months in high school. I
remember I bought them on sale and also got the employee discount. And for
whatever reason, they have lasted this long and here I sit wearing them in
Moldova nearly 20 years later. It made me remember the neighborhood I grew up
in, my parents still married, the schools I attended, and the activities that
made up my life back then. Scrolling through more recent photos reminded me of
how much has changed, both in my personal life and in the area I called home
for so long. Sometimes when I think about all the changes I want to cry for
what has been lost. Then again, I have had so many wonderful experiences and
made some amazing friends who I would not know if it weren’t for all of the
changes.
So, I wonder again, as I have so often in the past few years as I
sorted through my family’s history: How do I embrace the present and
simultaneously appreciate the past, without letting the loss become a burden?
Why am I so afraid of change? Why do I try to cling to what was? I’m
really trying to understand this on a personal level because so much of my life
and hometown(s) have changed so quickly recently that I am trying to find some
solid ground to stand on, a way to comprehend how to understand my own place in the change, a way to feel settled amid the upheaval, a way to
find balance in looking forward and looking back.
Among all the things in my camera roll, I found a screenshot of this
quote:
Everything has seasons, and we have to be able to recognize
when something’s time has passed and be able to move to the next season.
- Dr Henry Cloud, The Global Leadership Summit
It’s true. Over the 11 years it took me to sort through
boxes of family heirlooms, assorted papers, and belongings I navigated feelings
of sadness at what was lost and things I chose to get rid of, and excitement
for being less encumbered by things I don’t need or want. In that same time, I
also navigated the ups and downs of loss and gain I didn’t have control over:
new light rail, new restaurants, new people (friends!) moving to town, old
favorite places closing and being demolished, etc. I guess it comes down to my desire for stability and self-determination. When I make a choice to
change something, I feel excited about it. But when things just happen to me or
around me, it makes me want to cling harder to something that is being taken
away. By the end of 11 years of sorting, it was much easier to get rid of an
item without feeling loss or guilt. But it took me a long time to get to that
point. I wonder if there will be a point at which I won’t feel sad about a
favorite place being demolished and replaced by something else? I wonder if
there will be a day when I’m excited for the new and not constantly remembering
the things that no longer are? Or better yet, I wonder if there will be a point
at which I will fondly remember the things of the past that I loved, but only
with joy at having experienced them and not with sorrow that they are gone? I
think that is my goal. Because the reason I miss the things that are gone is because they
were wonderful, and I don’t want to forget that. But life is too short to dwell
in the past. I don’t want to be stuck back there wishing for what will never exist again. I
want to be able to love new things and new places, and to enjoy new
experiences.
How do I learn to let go of the past without feeling like
my foundation is cracking? How do I welcome the new, remember the past, and not
fear loss? If anything, all the loss has taught me that life is too short to
worry about things I have no control over, and I don’t want to miss out on the
good things to come because I am fretting over things that are gone.
Had you told me when I bought this pair of socks – when I
was still in high school, living at home with my parents who were still
married, planning to be an orthodontist, and had never left North America or
lived anywhere but the house I was born in – that I’d be wearing them nearly 20
years later while serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Moldova, having
travelled to 43 countries, experienced my parents’ divorce and my mom’s death,
earned a Master’s in International Development, and no longer calling Seattle
my home, I don’t know what I would have thought. I’m certain that there is a
reason why we learn information when we do. Knowing ahead of time everything
that would be coming would probably have scared me. Maybe it would have made me
afraid to move forward.
Life experience has taught me that I usually end up where I need to be right when I need to be there. Maybe all the loss and change precipitated me coming to Moldova at just this time. Maybe being here is necessary for whatever will come next. For now, I am trying to learn how to gracefully embrace the past, present, and future. I'm grateful for what I've experienced, and despite missing things of the past, I'm optimistic about what the future holds and trying my best to appreciate today for what it is. Hopefully, I'll look back at today with fond memories.
