The Land of Living Stones

Lately I’ve been struggling with the “what-ifs” of my upcoming journey. Particularly the uncertainties of the future post-SALT term. Perhaps it seems a bit ahead of the game to be worried about what comes after the assignment I’ve yet to begin, but really, it is somewhat necessary to have a plan beforehand so that when I am on the ground working I have a framework. For example, graduate school applications for the next year would be due in January and would need to be started in late summer. This line of thought has led to all sorts of panicked hypothetical-laden mind-wandering–and I know it’s futile. But such contemplation has mostly centered on the difficulties of transitioning back to American society, the reverse culture shock that I’ve experienced in the past, or the idea of staying longer in the Middle East, with its own set of challenges. It is obvious that these contingencies cannot be acted upon until I am in my placement and have a sense of what I’m being called to next, but just the sheer weightiness of my decision-making seems overwhelming.

This may be merely an exaggerated version of post-college syndrome, as I have found meaningful employment for a year, but not beyond that. I am only postponing and complicating the inevitable task of settling somewhere where there is no ‘end date.’ It is perfect fodder for the perfectionistic anxiety ridden personality that I have, wanting to figure out my life, to do it right the first time. All the discernable factors: my family, my friends, my goals and dreams, my gifts, my financial situation, etc. will be interacting with all kinds of unknown variables and uncontrollable circumstances. Especially in light of others around me who are making huge commitments: friends getting married, people moving across the country or world to be with the one(s) they love, taking jobs or going to school in completely foreign towns, I am a little afraid to face the future.

On the other hand, I am aware that I will be entering an area where people just do not have the opportunities to create such elaborate futures, where uncertainty reigns daily over whether everyone in the family will come home safely, whether jobs and economic security will hold out and whether they can keep their roof. This is where culture-shock comes in. I know it will be so very hard to extricate myself from the lives of people in Bethlehem, to know that I have a much different home to return to whenever I want. It’s like I want to do something now to prepare for or alleviate that transitional angst, but I can’t. I have to take things as they come.