Topsy-Turvy

Friendships in the Peace Corps are a odd breed. Don't get me wrong - the people here are some of the bravest, most interesting, most caring people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and befriending. I've been here but six months, and I feel like I've known several people for a lifetime, just like the propaganda said I would. But things are out of order. You see people in their most uncomfortable, at their worst, almost right from the start. Nervousness, frustration, sadness, anger, resignation, disorientation all find a way to jump from the back of the head to the eyes almost instantly. It bonds people. You quickly learn who to lean on, who can (and will) discuss issues at length with you, who takes your mind away from your problems, who "gets it". You share and share some more, yet there's still more to share. You know people's secrets, their worst fears and memories, their insecurities, their drawbacks - and you still adore them, and they you. The fact that it happens, and so quickly, makes it all feel magical. And it is. Those bonds and links and trust are real. They are hyper-connections.

But sharing your darkness constantly, and receiving someone else's, creates an abyss. You can get lost there - and hearing a familiar, comforting voice just keeps you from realizing you're falling further and further. Some of that falling is necessary. Some of it is inertia. It's hard to stop - all of those things you're feeling (nervousness, frustration, sadness, anger, resignation, disorientation - among others) are real - because the line between honoring those feelings and feeding them is so incredibly unclear. I believe in honoring feelings, and generally I think I am, but I have also become guilty of feeding them.

I had an online chat with Ellen the other day that really helped me (thanks, El!) think about who I am and what I am doing. She reminded me of why I'd made some of my life choices. It sounds funny, but I had honestly forgotten. So willing to admit cowardice, I'd forgotten that I'd chosen some roads with great thought and courage. I told Ellen of the shadows and ghosts I'd shared with people here and she pointed out that if in six months people knew all those things that there was no way they could also know what was truly great about me. She's right. Lost in my abyss, I'd forgotten what was great about me - how could I share it if I couldn't even see it myself?!

There is a dark cavern in me, at times it can be quite large, but it's not an abyss. It has a beginning and an end, even if I haven't found it. I know I have great things to share and great people in my life. I know I have talent and heart. I know I try to honor my feelings, even if they are messy, confusing and sometimes completely overwhelming. I know that I am growing and transforming instead of settling and quietly dying, even if it feels like I'm self-administering a root canal. I know that I can do this.

I will still explore my darkness, and still look for and cherish friends who are willing to help me explore it and who want to include me in their own journeys. However, I want to also remember what I'm good at - what I'm great at. I want to remember what I really like about me. I want to share that. I want to see other people's greatness too. It took me six months, but I am finally ready to see people's good side. I'm hungry for greatness.