I’ve always wanted to study abroad. From the moment I knew I could one day do it, I decided that it was something I wanted to experience. What is life, after all, if not a collection of experiences? I dreamt of a time when I would be older and more hip and wise and confident and I would travel to some exotic country and learn their language and customs and traditions and I would go to school and assimilate into their daily lives; and then one day, I would pack up and move back to the states and tell everyone about this amazing experience and nobody would ever get tired of hearing my stories. When I began looking at studying abroad, it was just another goal. It was something Mom and Dad could be proud of and something Grandma and Grandpa could tell their friends about. That was the dream then. But now, since studying abroad is a “for sure” instead of a “hope,” it’s become so much more than just another tally mark, another thing to check off the list. Studying abroad has evolved into an opportunity which makes sense as the next step in my life in many different ways. The more real that Chile becomes and the closer I get to leaving, the more I see going to Chile as something necessary for my individual growth as well as something that I truly want to do and am excited to experience.
Now that studying abroad is a reality, I’m experiencing a myriad of emotions that make me excited for my trip, but they also make me unsure and wary of the path in front of me. It’s uncanny how easily studying abroad fell into place. I’d be surprised if it were anything less than fate at this point; but at the same time, Chile as my destiny doesn’t invalidate what I feel in regards to those people and things that I will miss for a year.
You see, I found out about my study abroad opportunity three days before my application was due. In a panic, I “somehow” got all of my materials in on time and they were good enough to get me accepted into the study abroad program. When I say “somehow,” I don’t really mean “somehow,” I know it to be by the will of God. I’m a spiritual person. Not necessarily religious. But I’m spiritual enough to believe in a God, and without Him, I wouldn’t be here right now (spatially, at this point in my life, and accepted into a study abroad program). Applying to study abroad came at a point in my life where I ran in a rut of questioning my identity. I continuously came back to the question, “Am I really living my life in a way that will make me happy now and in the future?” And without any real, clear goals for my post-graduate future, how could I answer that question? All I knew was that the track I was on wasn’t fulfilling me enough, and didn’t feel like it was satisfying my true self; I felt like I was forcing an identity upon myself without having any real reason to accept the labels I was trying to wear. Studying abroad, as it became a more feasible possibility for my future, began to look more attractive than ever.
Getting accepted to study abroad went like this. I ran shitty at a track meet. I dropped out of a race. It was the first and only time I’ve ever done that. I literally just stopped running mid-race. I could write for a long time about that, but I’ll save my self esteem and your sanity by not telling that story. The bus got home late after the meet. I was tired, pissed off, and again questioning my future athletic success should I continue on the same path I was then on. Walking into my house, one shoulder dropped a little lower from the weight of the duffle bag which smelled like dirt and sweaty socks, I checked the mail box. One lonely letter stood leaning against the inside of the black metal box. A bill. Junk mail. A letter for a roommate. Maybe even some money from Mom and Dad. When I lifted the letter out of the mailbox it felt different. The cool, smooth texture of the envelope under my fingers and the weight of a few pieces of paper within it signaled something worthwhile. Addressed to: Me. From: California State University International Programs.
Oh. Hell. Yeah.
I walked calmly, but quickly, to my room, threw my bag on the floor, sat down, and opened the letter. About five pages fell out, but I wanted to read one. It would either start with “Congratulations!” or “We’re sorry to inform you that…” Thankfully, it was the former. I didn’t need to know what the other pages said. I just knew that I had made it, and that things would change. I was profoundly moved and ecstatic, but as Nick walked by in the hallway, I hid the excitement. I wasn’t ready to tell him, I wasn’t even ready to tell myself. There were (are) so many loose ends to tie up, I didn’t even know where to begin.
Even right now, I feel like celebrating my departure for an experience which those around me won’t get to be a part of is a slap in the face to those I care about. I feel like if I celebrate, I’m ignoring the great experiences I could have had with those back at home that I care about. I feel like I’m abandoning those groups that for so long I’ve identified with and committed myself to. There’s also the fact that studying and travelling abroad is nearly exclusively reserved for privileged (financially) individuals. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around what kind of sacrifices my parents have made for me in this regard as well as countless others, and this is just another example of their love and selflessness, something I feel like I’m unworthy of, and must repay. I realize that I’m luckier than most… much luckier… and, God, I am thankful for it, but I’m a firm believer that if a positive opportunity presents itself, and it’s something you truly believe will you will enjoy and that will benefit you and/or those close to you in some way, you should always take that opportunity.
Sidenote: Love—true love—is something that nobody is truly worthy of. Nobody deserves to be loved so wholly and fully like God loves us. Like our parents love us. I don’t care if you disagree about God, but if you can understand what a healthy parent-child relationship looks like, you know what true love looks like. You know how difficult it is to describe and define and so to be thankful to be loved is an action and a feeling which requires a great deal of introverted speculation and outward emotional expression. Don’t confuse what I’m saying to mean that love means money. That’s not what I want to get at. What I do want to point out is my parents’ willingness to give up a lot of money and time so that I can have the best life possible… obviously studying abroad is something that will impact my life, and I can only pray that it’s for the best. In many ways, I see studying abroad as an investment in my future. Cheesey, cliché, but accurate.
As I write this, I realize how ridiculous it is to conceal happiness and joy. I should be juiced about studying abroad. And I am. But having absolutely zero expectations of what Chile will be like, I guess I have nothing at the moment to be concretely excited about which leaves me to embody the opposite reaction—disappointment at what I’ll miss out on.
Here’s where it gets heavy.
First- running. For 7 years, running has defined me as well as my social circle. I have done the training, ran the races, travelled with the team and lived the lifestyle. For about a third of my life, I have been a runner. But lately, I’ve been questioning if I really am a runner. Yes, I know; I run, so I’m a runner. I wish it were really that easy. Am I a runner? Does running define me or do I run because it’s who I am? I don’t know. But if you do—any help would be appreciated. Don’t get me wrong. Not once have I ever regretted running with a team. But I do wonder how long God has given me to run competitively and be happy with it. That said, studying abroad in Chile seems like the perfect chance to be able to get away from external pressures and figure out running for myself. Whether or not I find the zeal to run competitively like I used to have… well that’s still up in the air. But I’m hoping that being in a place where running is completely optional (And for anyone from my Gig Harbor team, I really mean “optional,” not like Patty meant “optional”)will help me to rediscover my true love and joy for running. When I think about the act of running—of propelling forward stride for stride breathing in the outdoor air and being completely aware of my entire self—I think of a way I’d like to model my life, and so I don’t see myself completely escaping the sport or the lifestyle altogether.
Regardless of what running means to me physically, it has always meant (and I’m sure it will continue to mean) friendship. The bonds I’ve made through running are the strongest I’ve ever made and they’re the ones that made the decision to travel abroad so hard. Looking to my year in Chile, I know that leaving my family will be hard. Leaving my dog will be hard. Leaving the Redwoods and the coast and leaving the Harbor and the hills… it will be hard. But leaving my team—that’s a whole new set of internal conflicts I’m still not sure I’ve completely processed.
If I ever competed with you (or for you), I want you to know that you’re the biggest thing that I had to grapple with in coming to the decision to go to Chile. One might say that you almost held me back. I would agree with that terminology, but not necessarily with its implications. Holding me back from Chile would only mean a continued ride on this rollercoaster we call running. I wouldn’t mind it that much to be honest.
The other thing I’m sure I’ll miss out on is the Lumberjack Newspaper. There are so many things I want to see that paper do in the future that leaving it behind after three semesters is also difficult to do. When we’re just beginning to scratch the surface of our potential and capabilities as a reporting staff, I up and leave and somehow have this crazy idea that I can just pick back up when I return. And maybe it will be that easy, but something about leaving for a year to a foreign country just makes me think that it won’t be. And if I want to reach all of my journalistic goals (which, in case you were wondering, are much more tangible and exciting than the vague outlines of goals I talked about earlier), I’m going to have to work a lot harder than I am right now. That doesn’t sound very attractive, but it’s true.
But perhaps the thing I’m most interested in when looking forward to studying abroad is this concept of abandonment, of leaving everything behind. Abandoning myself, as I know myself to be, will be hard to do, because there are so many things I love about what I’m doing right now. But, there is something strangely attractive about moving to a place where no one knows you, or your friends… or (thank God) your facebook. In a way, I’m abandoning the labels and ideas I had about myself and I can only hope to learn more about who I am.
"We are none of us alone.
Even as we exhale, it is inhaled by others.
The light that shines upon me shines upon my neighbor, as well.
In this way, everything is connected to everything else.
In this way, I am connected to my friend, even as I am connected to my enemy.
In this way, there is no difference between me and my friend.
In this way, there is no difference between me and my enemy.
We are none of us alone."
-Anonymous
