Transformed?

I think I expected to feel some closure by now, to have some sense of what exactly happened to me during the past year. I had hoped there would be a more obvious sign of the transformation that took place. But somehow I find myself right where I left off - asking myself what do I really want to do with my life and how do I want to live it.

I find myself regressing back to a way of life that I had hoped I could eternally escape from – the fast-paced, material-centered, schedule-infected lifestyle that leaves me feeling isolated and lonely. How did this happen? How did I leave everything for another reality and return with so little of it within me?

I want to feel that part of Peru is engrained in me, but I’m not quite sure what to keep and what to let go.

It’s so easy to accelerate life where I am now. To jump in my car, hop on the highway and speed my way to another town or city, attempting to lift my spirits with yet another activity, another event, another distraction.

And as I drive back home, alone in my car, listening to the radio, I stare ahead and wonder what, if anything, did I learn during the past year?

I learned to fill an entire weekend just by lying in bed and reading. I could thoroughly occupy myself by walking to the Plaza de Armas and back, treating myself to pudding cake and peach nectar. I loved hand washing my clothes and continued to even after my host mother invested in the family’s first washing machine.

I felt utterly satisfied every time I wrote a long letter and brought it to the serpost. I would wait for several minutes for the teller to find change and an old lick-on stamp inside her empty desk drawers. I’d then bring the letter to the corner of the post office, kiss the sealed fold of the envelope and slip it inside the small blue box that read internacional, hoping that it would arrive safely.

So much of my time was filled with mundane activities, each providing a joyful ritual for me. What happened to that reverence for the simple? Why do I not feel that same sense of joy?

Partly because I’ve spent the past few months in constant motion.

I’ve moved into a new apartment and acquainted myself with a new town. I have started to work at a women’s shelter. I’ve reconnected with friends and family and returned to dancing with the small company I joined after college.

I’ve packed on just about everything I can to rebuild my life. Yet it’s beginning to dawn on me that reconstructing my life will take something more than just filling time with activity, responsibilities and relationships.

I’ve jumped back into the life I knew before with such ferocity that I haven’t allowed any shifts to take place.

If I am looking for ways that the past year has transformed me, I have to allow the time and space for the changes to emerge here, in this new place. During this season of hibernation, where one slows down and lets life simmer under the surface, maybe I will understand the growth that has taken place.