Another day, another dream

I say that to Robbie almost every morning. Life here is good. So good.

But we only have a week and a half left. Like, what? Time has gone by so quickly. It's strange to think that this experience is coming to an end. I could live in this place with these people forever. We're family. This is home.

As much as I wish I could stop it, next weekend everyone will jet back to Utah (or other places, then Utah), and I will stay here and plod on and see what I can make of myself here in the capital of the country.

There is so much to update on! Our stellar weekend trip to New York, the fun and banter at work, this new thing I do called "Happy Hour," conversations with interesting people about interesting things... Unfortunately, we have a stupid 8-page paper due this weekend and then I have two portfolios to put together and send off, so blogging is the last thing on my mind. All my time is consumed in trying to wrap things up at the internship, do my schoolwork, secure housing, research jobs, AND spend time with all my friends who will soon be leaving. It should be overwhelming--for some reason, I'm not overwhelmed.

Look at me, just breezing through change!

We'll follow up in a couple weeks to see if I'm still this optimistic about it.

Anyway, just wanted to check in so I can snapshot life as it still is.

Enjoy these pictures of our trip to New York. I'll try to write about it later. But no promises.

 

 

I loved New York. So much energy! We had a great time. I will definitely be going back. 

I think I'll stay

It's hard to keep track of all my thoughts. I carry around a notebook for the purpose of recording them, but even then, most of my thoughts and ideas end up lost in the nebulousness (that's a word!) of the universe. It's a sad reality.

I really enjoy talking to people--I like hearing stories. As of late I've been talking to a few older, more established people to get a glimpse into their life histories.

Pam, a woman I met in Thailand a couple years ago, was in town earlier this week. I met her "for coffee" on the morning of my birthday and I listened as she ever-so-gently shared her young-adult years and gave me some advice that I really appreciate:

Follow your heart.

Simple advice--advice you and I have heard a million times over. Advice that I semi-jokingly offer people when they ask me for input. You know, just do what your heart tells you.

But Pam--a woman with an impressive passport and even more impressive resume, a graduate of Georgetown University, a doctorate student at Duke, a mother of twins, a speaker of 6 languages, an accomplished world traveler--told me that in all of her life experience, she may have regretted following her head sometimes, but she never regretted following her heart.

She said nothing about being strategic or creating a plan; she gave no networking or interviewing tips. No phone numbers or emails of important people I should connect with.

She told me to honor what was inside of me, to follow my heart. And she wasn't just repeating a tired platitude. Her eyes welled up and her hand fluttered to her neck. She had put stock in this conviction, I could tell; she had tried and tested it--and it had held true. She believed it wholeheartedly, and she made me believe it, too.

I walked out of that coffee shop and I thought, "I will. I will follow my heart."

My heart tells me to stay here. It tells me that it needs time to catch up with my head. It tells me to give myself space and to explore my options and to sit and think for awhile. It tells me to be still and to be patient. It tells me to catch up on the books I've been meaning to read, the letters I've been meaning to write, the phone calls I've been meaning to make. It tells me to stop for a second and take a breath.

Today at work I sat outside and chatted with another woman in my office--Eleanor. She spent her twenties galavanting around war zones in Africa. She worked for Doctors Without Borders, USAID, Human Rights Watch. She's got a pretty impressive history, just like Pam.

But with a wry smile on her face she told me, "I could have never planned any of that. I just let it  happen. I rode the ebb and flow, and things just worked out."

After we talked she sent me an article exploring the problem with the way we've been taught to make decisions--from the Harvard Business Review, ironically enough. It was so good--almost poetic. I was pulling out quotes left and right, but I think the best summation of it can be found in these lines: 

"We are many selves. And while these selves are defined partly by our histories, they are defined just as powerfully by our present circumstances and our hopes and fears for the future.

We like to think that we can leap directly from a desire for change to a single decision that will complete our
reinvention – the conventional wisdom would say you shouldn’t fool yourself with small, superficial adjustments. But trying to tackle the big changes too quickly can be counterproductive...trying to make one big move once and for all can prevent real change.

We redefine [our identities], in practice, by crafting experiments, shifting connections, and making sense
of the changes we are going through."

A nice cherry of validation, wouldn't you say? I can wait. I can make small moves. I can stay here and see.

Battered Bodies

Today I could hardly get out of bed I was just so tired.

This weekend chewed us up and spit us out, in a good way--if that idiom can be used in a good way...

Thursday night I went for 4-mile run, up and around Georgetown again. Then a few of us opted to walk to the National Mall to see the 4th of July concert dress rehearsal, but when we got to the Capitol Building we were turned away because of "inclement weather." There was no inclement weather. The weather was fine. They were lying to us. I say it was a government conspiracy.

So we kept walking, all the way to China Town for froyo, and then back to the metro. Probably 6 miles of walking altogether. But to be honest one of my favorite things to do around here is just walk aimlessly through the city with people that I like, so it was a night well spent.

Us and the Tea Party man on the parade route (in front of the archives).

Friday morning we woke up rearing and ready for our big Washington DC Independence Day celebratory plans. So we got all decked out in red, white, and blue, took the bus to China Town and then walked to the National Archives to see the parade. Not the greatest parade I've ever seen, strangely enough. I expected more out of the nation's capital on the nation's birthday. But whatevs.

What's more American than fireworks next to the Washington Monument?

We ate all-American burgers at Fudruckers, walked around, and then took the metro up to Friendship Heights for the ward BBQ. Then we metroed back down and walked the 2 miles to the Jefferson Memorial and staked out space to watch the fireworks.

I'm telling you, there's no better way to watch fireworks than sitting on the ledge of the Tidal Basin, watching the sun set while chatting with friends and eating peanut butter M&Ms.

 After the firework show we walked the 2 miles back home (to avoid the crazy metro crowds).

Are you keeping count? That's 14 miles of running/walking in 24 hours. It gets better.

For some reason we were still spry and full of energy on Saturday morning, so we played soccer for a couple hours at the park. I got knocked down and incurred a nice bruise and some cuts, but still had a great time. I love that I've kind of been able to fulfill my bucket list item of playing on an intramural soccer team. I don't know why I ever gave up on that sport.

Anyway, after soccer I changed and went to the pool with Margarette and Jake. We spent a few hours swimming and soaking up the sun.  Somehow I got sunburned. Apparently I am not invincible.

After the pool Margarette, Jake, Jordan, Trent, Robbie, Rebecca and I rode the metro to Alexandria and spent the evening in Old Town. The Alexandria waterfront is beautiful--reminds me of the wharf in San Francisco. We explored the main street, had some R&R time by the fountain, ate ice cream for dinner and pizza for dessert. Alexandria is a charming little place.

Old Town Alexandria. Let's pretend this picture isn't blurry.

Oh, and then we walked a mile to the metro and rode home.

It was a good, solid, American weekend. And today we had church and then I went to see a girl's apartment up north. Took the metro back and then walked a mile home.

Had taco salad, changed into jeans, and went for a little jaunt up to Book Hill Park, which turned into a 4-mile trek around the Georgetown area.

So now I'm sitting here feeling like a brick. Everything hurts. Total weekend mile count: 20. At least. But it was such a fun-filled weekend! Our time here as Barlow interns is limited, so we're really trying to pack our days now. By the end of the summer I'll either have really impressive muscular legs or I'll have no legs at all.

The prospect of homelessness

Lately I've been seeking advice from a lot of people, because I don't know what I'm doing with my life and other such minor conundrums.

I have five short weeks to find a job and a place to live. Should I be stressed out about this little factoid? Probably. Am I? Not really, surprisingly.

I'm on the lookout for housing, both of the indoor and outdoor variety. Every time we walk somewhere I can't help but scope out park benches and alleyways and weigh the risks of spending a night there. Is it secluded enough to fall asleep but public enough to run for help if I get attacked? Would the security guys kick me out? Are there other homeless people around?

I'm hoping these efforts of mine are futile because I actually really don't want to be sleeping on the street.

Indoor housing is more promising, but also more expensive. A cheap apartment around here is at least $200 more than I would have ever considered paying in Provo. Doable though, if you have a job. Unfortunately a job I have not.

"You'll figure it out," everyone says. "I doubt you'll be sleeping on the street."

Paha. Comforting.

On Thursday I had a meeting with a man at work. He was older and wise-looking. The second I sat down in his office he went into mentor mode.

"Career paths only exist in retrospect," he said. "Don't make pro-con lists. Those never got me anywhere. Just do what feels right. Make a list of things you want to do and make a list of things you don't want to do, and if you choose one of the things you do want, then it will be the right thing."

In the beginning of his little speech I was thinking, "Yeah. This is good stuff. What a wise old man." And then I realized, everyone has some little nugget of advice they want to drop into my life. Everyone thinks that their way of thinking is the right way.

Historically, I've been very apt to believe people when they tell me how or when things should be done. People are convincing, you know? Especially when they're old and they've had successful career. But I'm learning to take things for what they're worth and nothing more. I'd say every piece of advice is probably worth one minute of consideration. You take that minute to weigh and measure it, and then you tuck it in your back pocket for further consideration later or you throw it out. Some pieces of advice are valuable, to be sure, but everyone's situation is different and nobody has all the answers. In the end you have to find your own way.