Nancy Willard
I am coming out of a time of darkness, fear, and hopelessness. The things and people that usually made me full of life weren't having the same effect on me anymore, not because of a change in them, but because of a change in me. I found myself shying away from those activities and people that I loved and even, on an especially hard day, looked up the prices of plane tickets home (the prices convinced me I had no choice but to stay).
This period of challenge started so suddenly, I thought it would end just as suddenly. I looked all around for signs that it was time to be happy again. I kept thinking, "This can't last forever, I'm entering my second year, I'm supposed to be past the hardest part now!" But the more I looked, the more I got dejected. Solutions to my problems weren't going to be thrown at me, no magical fairy was going to visit and take away all of my burdens, no outward force could make me happy.
And so I stopped looking. And I started saying, out loud, to others, "Things are not OK. I'm in the middle of a rough patch right now. But that's OK." It was OK because I wasn't looking for a solution anymore. It wasn't that I had completely given up hope, but I was OK with not being OK. I accepted that this rut could and would last days, weeks, and months.
Then, a few weeks ago, we had a spirituality night in which we examined our day. I realized, to my surprise, that I had had a good day. There had been many things that made me happy, and nothing that got me down. I was beside myself, I had a good day, after months of not having any good days! In fact, things in general were going pretty well. Things weren't perfect, but they were OK, at times even good. Since then, I've had over a month of really good days ("just OK" days are really rare).
My turn around did not come suddenly. No big change or sign transitioned me out of my rut. The good times sneaked up on me.The little joys built up, and the stresses became less important. It's funny how when you finally stop looking is when you'll find happiness, God, or whatever you want to call this sense of peace.
This reminds me of a special morning I had a couple of months ago. Brian, Christina (the new volunteers), and I went to a small island, a beautiful spot where only 2 people usually live. We spent the night there with our host families, but had to return to town the next morning. Because of the tide, we had to leave at 4 AM.
We sat on a boat, half-asleep, as our driver guided us through the coral with a large stick.The island we stayed on had no electricity and the part of Pohnpei we were travelling to is the equivalent of the "country" of Pohnpei (plus it was 4 AM, so there were no lights on anyway).
Nobody spoke, we just listened to the water hit the side of the boat and the sound of the stick pushing the boat along. The wind chilled us, in a very refreshing way (those rare moments when you feel cold on Pohnpei are blessings).
But, above all, what overwhelmed me were the stars. So many stars. The sky has never seemed so huge as it did when we traveled through the lagoon that morning. Shooting stars flew everywhere. The stars reflected on the water so it seemed like we were surrounded above, below, and on all sides by the stars.
In Baltimore, or pretty much most places I've ever been, you can barely see any stars. They're hidden. Try as you might to search for them, those city lights will block them out. You won't really understand the song "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." But then, when you least expect, you're pulled out of bed (/off your mat) at 4 AM to ride a boat, and woah! there are a billion stars above you, around you, below you. Everywhere! And you wonder, "Stars, where have you been all my life?" Well, they've been there. They're always there. You just have to be patient, let go of expectations, go with the flow, go wherever life leads you, and they will reveal themselves to you in time.
I may never again see stars so clearly as I saw them that morning, but at least I know that they exist, even when I can't see them. So next time I'm 2 months in a rut of darkness, I hope I can remember that I saw stars before, and one day (even if it's years down the line) I will see them again.
