Power of Pause

I have officially been back in the states for two months. At this point in time there is an expectation to be reintegrated into societal norms. The truth is I'm far from what I would consider myself to be "blending in" among my age group. On the outside, I act and look alright--unless you're good at detecting hair that has not been washed in days.

Last week an old friend came to town for a brief visit. My friends have been saints throughout all this. This particular friend has been more distant, not surprising since our friendship previously thrived on face-to-face interaction. Together we were able to enjoy a meal, explore the outdoors, and brush up on our pool skills. She knew exactly what questions to ask, she knew when the conversation was getting uncomfortable and was able to curve it in a different direction. We reminisced, laughed, and schemed. Her presence was incredibly refreshing. I admire my friends, the ones who have been there each step of the way. They are all tackling the real world full force. I'm simply not ready, and seeing she was not either made the loneliness vanish.

Of course, if I couldn't have Peace Corps I wanted all my friendships to fall into place exactly as before. Unrealistic much? Reconnecting with friends has definitely been a tad more of a challenge than I would have liked, but the biggest hurdle is adjusting to the intricacy and pressure of post-Peace Corps life in the states, not to mention my experience did not exactly end with the completion of service. My happy-go-lucky yet purposeful life was flipped upside down, and before I knew it I was at home, in Ghana, and back home. That's just it though, I miss the simple day-to-day life in my hut. I miss the pause. The complications here shut me down, instead of dealing with them I find myself ignoring them or ridiculously frustrated by them.

After lots of reading on accidents, let downs, and loss I was captivated by these uttered words of truth.

"Something can be part of your story without becoming your identity."

At 23, my Peace Corps service concluding with the events of September seems like such a 'defining moment' of my life, whatever that means. My time away opened my eyes to new people, ideas, and places. For the most part, it was a positive adventure. Lately, it's as though details of early September have spiraled out of control, ultimately becoming the title of my book. It will always be an unforgettably rocky chapter, no doubt. When people ask about my Peace Corps service I want change my answer. I'm tired of the pity vote. It's impossible to put into words how life-changing the time in Lesotho (and even Ghana briefly) was. I spent 10 months working in a rural village in the mountains of Lesotho with more than 200 school children teaching math, science, and lifeskills. It was an incredible opportunity to serve as a leader and positive role model.

I'm want to stop skipping to the finale with every break in plot.