When the Dust Settles

                I sat across from a dear friend, almost unbelieving that we were having a face-to-face conversation. Time and miles had separated us for so long. As we basked in the warm early-summer sun, sipped perspiring drinks, and talked—I found myself feeling like layers were peeling back. Layers of protection, of grief, of fear—callouses from two years of experiences and events that forever changed my life and outlook. My heart rambled and sputtered back to life as i finally allowed myself to feel, not just think. Sure, thinking and speaking can “look” like processing—but crying doesn’t mean the heart is healing. Thinking and analyzing are easier than accepting and feeling. Sure, I’ve talked about Kenya—about Kibera, cultural differences, the friends I made, the places I saw—but I think talking kept it off my heart and in my head. It’s “easy” to talk about experiences—but processing requires feeling and accepting—the realities of what I saw, understanding the bigger picture of my time, and—honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing to feel like I’m just beginning.

                But the truth is a lot happened in four months—I stepped onto Kenyan soil and lived a childhood dream; I experienced a new culture; made friends from around the world; and just when I felt like I was home—it was time to leave. Before I left, my home changed—a friend died, people moved, babies were born. I hadn’t even cleaned the red dirt off my shoes when a family member passed away, and 2012 ended with me hearing of more deaths than births. I couldn’t process it all. The dust of tragedy and change swirled around me—I didn’t know where to look or where to start. But oh, I was busy—back to work, back to serving in church, back to writing lists and checking them off—the American way. Then, this crazy year of school started and I had an even better excuse to not think or process—I was too busy analyzing behavior to admit that I needed to process.

                Right before graduation my mother asked me how I felt about it—was I excited? Feeling accomplished? Honestly, my thought was—“oh crap—now I won’t have an excuse to not think about the last year—to not have answers”. For the record—I don’t know exactly where I’ll be working (or living, for that matter) long term, I don’t have a “five year plan”.  All I know is that this year was a gift—a busy, behaviorally focused, intellectually stimulating work. As I drove home from the weekend away—refreshed by visiting old friends, college pastime places, and soaked in the warm June sunshine—I realized it was the first time in a while that I “felt like myself”. but now it’s time for real work—it’s time for me to process and start mentally, emotionally, and spiritually dusting—the corners of my heart and mind that I’ve let sit untouched for the last two years—the ones that hold fond and painful memories—sometimes in the same memory. Now that the dust has settled—it’s time to start cleaning.