A Purpose Driven Life

"...these Northern nights are dreary, and my Southern heart is weary...."
- "Smoky Mountain Memories," Dolly Parton

I've decided I've missed the therapeutic qualities of blogging, so I'm going to pick it back up. I never really intended to drop it in the first place, but apparently when you enter the so-called "real world" a lot of small things get sacrificed on the altar of "I worked all day, and I'm too tired to do XYZ."

Up until a week ago, everything here was business as usual. I'd drag myself across the street every morning and life went on as it always does. However, a week ago I decided this was a mistake. It was a nice, grand experiment in independence from which I've gleaned a number of insights and learned a number of lessons the hard way but all (good?) things must draw to a close. It started by resigning as the cluster institute coordinator, a job for which I was ill-suited in a cluster like this one, and then the more momentous and life-changing decision to pack up my bags and move back to Little Rock.

When I returned to Africa in May/June, I didn't really have much of a purpose in going beyond taking a vacation, visiting with Hossein & Mitra and giving May Saba a really big hug. But apparently my mind was hiding a larger purpose (it's amazing how often and how well we can trick ourselves): I was sitting near a roundabout with Mitra in Morogoro, drinking a Fanta Pineapple, waiting for the mechanic to fix a puncture in the tire and looking up the Uluguru Mountain shrouded in clouds when I blurted out that I had come back to Africa to see if it's where I belonged, where I wanted to be.

I think I surprised myself with my admission more than I surprised Mitra. My whole itinerary shifted after that. I spent more time sitting in Mitra's office grilling her about the intricacies of her non-governmental organization and the Tanzanian Baha'i community than I did traveling to exotic beaches and remote locales. I shuffled around the house in my pajamas thinking about the impact of a life in Africa - the good, the bad, the ugly - and the sacrifices it would take to pursue that life. All that isn't to say I left fun by the wayside (I can't remember laughing more) but the trip turned more contemplative than I'd anticipated.

When I came back home, all my ruminations were put squarely in the back of my mind by the daily 8:00 - 5:00 grind (who actually works 9:00 - 5:00 anymore?) and the pace and demands of the American lifestyle. In the quiet of the evening in those moments right before sleep I'd see the thoughts emerge and some energy put into sorting them out. "Sorting them out" would eventually lead to only a vague understanding of what I wanted and even that would be burned away like fog in the morning sunlight. Fruitless attempt after fruitless attempt to engage my own self in an earnest, internal discussion about the direction in which I needed to go eventually led to prayer (the Tablet of Ahmad was a favorite).

One morning I woke up with such a distinct clarity of purpose that it made me giddy inside. I've always envied those people who knew what they wanted, when they wanted it and how they wanted it and for once I was experiencing the same feeling (although those people likely have no corresponding emotional rush - they are simply who they are).

It seems like I've taken the most circuitous route to get to this point, but the burst of clarity forced me to realize that if I'm going to go back to Africa, if I'm going to dedicate my life to helping other people in any way then the first prerequisite is finishing college. Before, going to school just seemed like one of those things you did - the next step in the life you're supposed to pursue. But now that it's very clearly a means to an end for me, I feel like I've been fired and tempered with a purpose. I think the blacksmith could have been a little gentler with me, a little faster in getting me to this point but I think now when I have that paper in my hand it won't be a hollow degree.

Staying here in Chicago and finishing school was not an option. I will be assuming debt to finish my degree, and there's not much sense in amassing piles of debt struggling in a place like this when I can return to Arkansas and attend an admittedly "lesser" institution without sticking it to my future self 20 years from now still struggling to pay down all the loans. Some part of me still feels like it's giving up to tuck tail and leave after only a year here but those thoughts are usually fast trodden by the sense of purpose that's now driving me.

The logistics are now falling into place. I've informed the Baha'i Publishing Trust that I will not be here beyond the end of November, which was taken a little harder than I anticipated. I'd originally committed for two years but I don't feel the need to be overly apologetic or kowtow to that commitment when the way forward for me is so clear. I'm going to do everything I can to help the transition go smoothly for my replacement.

I've had to reapply to the university because I was not enrolled for some time, and the arduous task of filling out the much loved FAFSA (Free Application for Federal Student Aid) is now behind me. When I have a response on these two then I'll be able to move forward with more long-term planning. As it stands, my parents will come up to help me move (again - God bless their souls) around Thanksgiving so I'm out by the time my lease expires on 30 November. They've graciously offered some living space for me until I've secured the funding for housing in Little Rock, which I've already begun to search for. As an aside on the cost of living on the North Shore, it's appalling to see I can rent a two bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood in Little Rock for considerably less than what I'm paying for my one bedroom here in Wilmette.

It's nice to move forward. It's nice to have a purpose!