Last summer in therapy, Mackenzie (my therapist) told me that I need to increase my tolerance for disappointment. I remember feeling 1. quite offended, a sign she was probably right, and 2. Confused about what she meant. I never did ask her for clarity, but I remember that week making a list of things and ranking how disappointed they made me. They ranged from not being New Zealand when I thought I would be, to a friend hanging out with her boyfriend all the time when I had numbered days left in Denver what felt like every night, to a boy who I thought was interested in me actually having a girl back home--who knows what else was on that list. What I realized by doing that was not everything has to be felt on the same scale but everything can be felt. But more importantly when things don’t shake out how I would have hoped, imagined, dreamed, whatever you may, that it is ok to give myself the space to be upset that it didn’t look how I wanted, no matter how big or small. Since being in New Zealand there have been moments that I just wanted to sit in forever. I have yet to find a word that fully encapsulates what I was feeling; it is this deep mix of gratitude, passion, zeal, and fervor--all combined in one felt deeply in my bones. Typically I find myself feeling this driving along a lake, surrounded by mountains, in my 20’ diesel van that I also happen to live out of who is named Evans; or floating in the warm ocean feeling the waves push me along; or when I’m watching the sunset over Mount Cook as the sky turns so more shades of pink than I knew was possible; or looking at the milky way from a campsite at 6000’ at the base of Sefton Glacier, or laughing until my side hurts with girls who were mere strangers weeks prior (shoutout to my dixon girlies). Sitting in these moments that I want to stay in forever has caused me to think about dreams a lot. Four months ago, I never would have said I’m much of a dreamer. I never really allowed myself to dream, because the way I viewed it was; that if your dream doesn’t happen then you are a failure. It was a very black and white, a+b=c view. I logically knew that was not the cause but couldn’t shift that thinking. As Mackenzie put it, I was walking through life with myself in bubble wrap not allowing myself to be disappointed. The funny thing about living in New Zealand is I feel like it has been one disappointment after another. Yes I know I just said there are moments that I would like to sit in forever, things that only could happen in dreams--yet I was living them. But the other side of that is things I really wanted to happen haven't. I didn’t get the ski resort job I really wanted. I haven’t met the love of my life or even the hot Kiwi man. I wasn’t able to volunteer in the kids ministry at church because I wasn’t in that city long enough. I am not picking fruit like I wanted to. Just to name a few. I am starting to realize and still trying to put words to it (these thoughts have been mulling in my brain for the last few weeks), that maybe for a dream to be a dream it has to be first intertwined and tumbled around with some disappointment. Almost everything that I initially wanted to happen with my time here in New Zealand has not happened. However, by those things not happening, it has allowed the space for things I wasn’t looking for to fall into place and blow my mind. Well maybe not all the things that have disappointed me have given way to greater things but that also is just life. Tonight as I pedaled my mountain bike along the airport loop with the thoughts coming and going. I kept coming back to the idea of dreams and disappointment. This wee time in Central Otago has dreams and disappointment jutted up against each other. While these few months in central Otago are not looking how I thought they would, they are not taking away from the dream I had of living in New Zealand. While this stint is not how I thought it would be, it doesn’t mean that it is necessarily bad or that I am a failure (yanno because I can’t fully control every aspect of life). There have been moments, more often than not, that have been so sweet that I didn’t know I needed to dream it but I am forever grateful they have happened. So all these things to say. Let yourself sit in the disappointment that it didn’t happen how you thought it would. Let yourself feel the moments of zeal so deeply it feels like it could last forever. Let your dreams be intertwined with disappointment. But most importantly let yourself dream. And let those dreams run wild to a destination you couldn’t even begin to imagine ending up at. With love, Amy
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Never in my life have I been able to tell you when an ocean had warmed up. Today I could and there is something about that, that I am still trying to find the words to describe. Sweet. Raw. Little. Joyful. Simple. Complex. Welcoming. Romantic. Or maybe those are just the things I am feeling about life right now and I am trying to personify the ocean. Who knows? But tonight as I ran along the waterfront, with full disclosure, with my phone on ‘do not disturb’ trying to pretend like I was not waiting for a text back from a cute English boy**.I found my legs moving in an attempt to slow my brain down. The plan was always a quick dip in the ocean on the way home. As the wind was blowing 30mph on my run and the sun was setting, the goosebumps were ever-present. I knew the ocean was going to be a chore but would eventually feel good. I left the running shoes and the headphones on the beach and just mind over matter forced myself into the ocean. Diving under the first wave I realized that it was so much warmer than I expected. Bobbing alone in the waves, I realized I had never consistently gone to an ocean to be able to notice the subtle difference in water temperature. The crazy thing is looking at the water, I couldn't have told you if it would be warmer or colder than last month. And in natural amy fashion, that got me thinking about life. How often do we move so fast we don't stop and see the subtle changes in us? The small moments of growth. The small moments that bring joy. The small things that cause the corners of your mouth to curl upwards because it’s those small moments that passed through your consciousness a millisecond years ago yet here you are living them. It’s 13 year old Amy saying she needed to live near the beach one day but never actively pursued it until she happened into a flat in Wellington, NZ that is a 7 minute walk to the beach. It’s being overwhelmed with planning a future but pulling on skills learned in therapy from a year ago. It's the simplicity of sitting on your coworkers porch at 3am. It’s the tears in Maccas because everything feels so big, but also you wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s the way the wind feels blowing across your face along the ocean in your friend’s van. It’s the small talk in the coffee shops with baristas. It's the way I have loosened my grip on my fear of failure because getting to live fully is so much more fun. So as I swam out to the dock, in water that was warmer than last month, with a smile on my face I couldn't help but be grateful for all the little changes in myself that led me to this moment. Here's to warmer water and more moments in life that cause that little smile to creep in because yes in fact this is your life. With love, Amy ** cute English boy did eventually text back 5/11/23
Written in my journal in SFO Airport. G Terminal Gate 1. 10:20pm What are you supposed to feel moving to a new country? A question I have asked myself countless times in anticipation to writing this. Would I be full of excitement, fear, and uncertainty but also expectancy? The need to weep and throw up all at the same time, were two things I was not planning on feeling. Yet here I sit, 25 minutes before I board with complete uncertainty if I will even be allowed into the country in 14 hours and some change. Apparently, the numbers at the bottom of your passport, while they include your passport number there is one extra before the USA that is not included in the actual number. Yes, it plainly states the passport number in the top right corner of your passport, but I didn’t catch that when applying for this (legally once in a lifetime) visa. Soooo…. Here I sit after the United ticket man and his supervisor spent over 30 minutes on the phone with immigration. They were able to get me boarding passes, which initially wasn’t the case. They both said my visa was fixed but with a little reservation in their voices. So again, here I sit at the gate still unsure if I will even be able to enter Auckland or will I be using my emergency money to fly right back to the States. Too scared to google anything. I no longer feel like I am going to weep or throw up, but if I think about the next 14 hours for too long those feelings quickly come back. Any sense of excitement I have is LONG gone. I just want to talk to an immigration officer for myself. This though, however, kickstarted the biggest urge and desire for comfort from the Lord. Hoping this little snafu is just a major kick in the ass that I cannot do this on my own and to stop trying to do that. I can’t even let my brain go to the space that this may be something bigger than that; yet it does. I truly am grasping for peace here, as the waves of nausea and failure flood over me. How do explain to the people who were at my going away party a mere 24 hours earlier that I can’t type a passport number correctly. What next if this isn’t it? But I don’t know if this is it? I have boarding passes in my hand so that must mean something. Right now, the Lord is all I got as the minutes to boarding get closer and closer. Psalm 22 talks about despair and the feeling of being alone yet having God—a pretty accurate description. THE VISA WORKED! 12/11/23 Truly by the grace of God, I am in New Zealand. Still wild to say that. I have been here for 5 days, and I am starting to wrap my head around the fact this is home for a bit. I always have said I want to write a book about my life one day. I’m pretty sure the book would have been just as interesting without the visa snafu, but alas it happened. I have spoken to immigration about my visa, as I need the correct one to get a tax number and bank account. When I explained the situation, the lady told me, “I am shocked you were even able to get into the country, the border is typically very strict about visas.” So, the fact that the border officer stamped my passport without a second thought is mind-boggling. I did confirm with the woman on the phone that I was legally here, and she said that I was. So shoutout to God for that one. I still am in the waiting game a bit as they reprocess my visa, so my bank account, tax number, and a job are still on hold until I receive the new visa. For the time being, I have been soaking up life here in windy Welly. I have decided to start running, which I found is much easier to start at sea level than all the times I tried in Denver. I have been to two farmer’s markets. Wandered around the botanic gardens, stared in awe at the ocean—still crazy to live a 7-minute walk to a beach! I am just enjoying the peace I have about not knowing what is next but just being. Shoutout to the many hours of therapy in the last year to get me to this place. I still cannot tell you which way traffic comes from, or which side of the sidewalk you are supposed to walk on—will take a bit to break the 25-year habit I have of things coming from the left. Every now and then my flatmate or a barista will say something, and I am convinced they are not speaking English; however, I had a barista ask me today to repeat myself so at least accent confusion goes both ways, I guess. If I were to ask myself the same question, I asked myself 7 days ago in the SFO terminal, I think my answer would be along the lines of this. When moving to a new country, I’m not sure if you can have one emotion. It will be exciting, exhausting, overwhelming, peaceful, uncertain but oh so worth it. I’m not sure what this next year holds, and honestly hope it is nowhere near as exciting as it was to get here—but we will just have to wait and see. Cheers to life as a Kiwi! With love, Amy 27 days. I had a mental countdown going, but there is something about it being the same month that is doing weird things to my brain. In 27 days I will no longer call Colorado home.I find myself sitting with a lot of questions for the future–- some with answers, some without and even still more questions the more answers I find. Colorado has been a place I have grown to love and call home for the last six years. A place that I never thought I would leave, yet I find myself packing my room with no return date in mind. A place where I have seen the lord chisel me into someone I never thought I could be. A place that gave me friends I never knew I needed or would make. A place that forced me to grow in ways I never wanted to, but somehow still did. A place where I could try new things, fail and succeed, but keep going. As I think about leaving, I cannot help but think back to the first time I said ‘see you later’ to Denver in December of 2017 on gap year. I went back and read that blog post as I was leaving Denver, yet knowing I would come back. It is crazy how many of those things I was reflecting on then, I am feeling now. Here is that post. I want to hug sweet Amy and tell her that even though she has NO IDEA the good, the shit, the hard, the amazing that is going to come her way in the next 5 years it will be some of the best years of her life. I do not think I am fully ready to wrap my head around the fact that I am moving; but at the same time, I find myself wanting to rush this last month here to just move on with it. For the last year, I have seemed to find myself in the season of in between. Having a job, not having a job, maybe moving, maybe not moving, wanting to start new things but not having enough time As I was driving home tonight, I found myself thinking that maybe it is time I rename this season. I have been calling a season in between, but what if it just is. And for the time being the season that is, is one where I have to say goodbye to a place where I felt like I was able to become me. Colorado has given me so many things and taught me so many things about me, life and God. I don’t think I am ready to sit with all those things yet. My therapist and I were talking a couple weeks ago; leaving Denver does not mean I have to leave those things behind. Who I am as a person is not attached to a place. Slowly working though what that will look like in the coming months. But without goodbyes, there are no hellos (yes cheesy, I am sorry). These next few months are going to bring some exciting hellos. I will be moving back with my parents for 2 months. I will be working as a groom for my horse trainer, and going on the road to shows with her. Which shout out to god for that one–– it was a dream I had as an 18 year old and the timing never worked, so I pushed it off as something I wanted but would never get. Tender to see 6 years later it happened. My best friend and I will get to live in the same state for the first time since we were 18. I get to soak up some precious time with my grandmas. In mid October I will be moving to New Zealand for a year!!!! New Zealand has been a bit of a whirlwind. The short of it is, I found a job that was a DREAM, applied in January then spent the next 5 months in a waiting game with them. The whole time my prayer was for the lord to slam the door shut if this job was not how I was supposed to go to NZ. Well they never filled the role above me, which in turn left me without a job. I already had my visa though, so figured what is 12 months of my life in the grand scheme of it all. So with that I am moving to New Zealand! There currently is not much of a plan, but will figure it out once my feet are on the ground in October. I’m sure this won’t be the last blog about ending my time well in Denver. I do think it is crazy that 5 and half years ago, I wrote a very similar blog to then go spend some time in Kansas before moving abroad–– and here I am again following the same pattern. Here's to the season that is and the season that will become. With love, Amy Coming into 2023 it feels different than years past. It feels so much more unknown yet I find myself leaning in with so much expectancy. Up until this point my life has been relatively linear, with a little curve of the line with a gap year thrown in after high school. Even then though, I jumped back on the linear path. But now it is 2023 and the linear path of life--graduate college, get a job, get married, travel a bit, have some kids, retire-- seems to be disappearing quickly underneath me. A question I seem to be asking myself quite often lately is how do I cultivate a life for myself that allows for me to pursue passions, and desires, and fears, and the unknown while feeling this societal constriction to be on a linear path? I believe there are three ways to answer this question. The first way is that you simply don’t. Or you could let the push of the linear guide you some, with those passions sprinkled throughout your life. The last way to approach this is to throw the linear line out the window and do it all--almost a scatterplot if you will with a lot of outliers. I don’t think any one of these approaches are right or wrong. We are all coexisiting on this beautiful place called earth, trying to do the best, for us--and that looks different for everyone. Currently, I am walking into 2023 with my life looking a lot like a scatter plot. I have no job after March. I am spending a month in Europe. With confidence I can tell you I have my life planned until June 10th, when I hopefully drag my happy self across the finish line of a 70.3 Ironman. After that I have absolutely no idea what is next. I do not know where I will live, I do not know what job I will have, I don’t know what new hobby I’ll find to hyperfix on. But what I do know is I will continue to seek out ways to intertwine life with my passions, seek out ways to serve those around me, push myself to do things that scare me. Maybe by doing that my life will look more linear in society’s eyes, or the scatterplot may get even more crazy--who knows? What I do know though is it looks different for everyone but I challenge you to ask yourself this question: What if life isn’t supposed to be linear; but a time to feel gratitude so deeply you feel it in your bones, a chance to find the things that set your soul on fire, the space to be bad at things, and to run ridiculously fast after things you love? With love, Amy I feel like most people pick a word at the start of a new year or season of their life to help bring a sense of purpose and direction. I was going to pick a word but in typically Amy fashion, I thought about it, thought a bit more then moved passed it because to pick one I would have had to sit in the uncomfortable for longer than I wanted to choose one (just one of the many reasons therapy has been moved off of the 3 year to do listand is in the process of being scheduled). 2022 decided to give me a word however: bittersweet. These last 8 months have been a bit of a crap deal. There have 110% been so many good moments sprinkled in throughout the year and I think that is where I have found myself stuck in. Asking the question; how do you sit with open hands with one hand being the fact that this SUCKS but in the other it could be so much worse? While feeling stuck in that question, I think I haven’t given myself the space to truly process it all because it either could be so much worse or there is a simple fix so I just moved past it. The year started with mom falling off at a show and fracturing her back for the second time in less than two years. But she didn’t refracture the old fractures and these fractures were minor. She was going to mitigate her risks of riding and sell her horse that she bought to accomplish the dream of having a hunter and a jumper because he was so tall. Yeah that moment sucked but it was fine, I went back to student teaching. She was going to be able to keep riding, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. A few months later a total fluke happened, her (shorter) horse tripped in the last corner of the course. I got the text in the family group chat that pretty much said “I’m fine but I’m in the ambulance headed to the ER, I fell off of Arlo” while teaching phonics to 2nd graders is not the most ideal situation. And she was fine, if you count a hip broken in 4 places that required to titanium rods to fix but she didn’t fracture her back again, Arlo didn’t fall on top of her, she didn’t hit her head. Three days later during a family facetime with all my family together at the hospital and me in Denver (talk about feeling helpless and lonely) we had the family conversation that it was time to put the bestest dog ever down. So for easter this year I spent 11 hours in Kansas saying goodbye to my childhood dog and visiting my mom in the hospital. But I got to go home and say bye to Brady, I got to hug my momma it sucked but it was fine. Some of the biggest tears I have cried in a long time were the few weeks after her surgery. Would she ever be able to ride a horse again? Between the new accessories our new iron woman got, and a lot of other factors she decided to never sit on a horse again. And let me tell you that GUTTED me. She may be one of the hardest working, determined, willing to push through the hard to get what she wants people I have ever known. And through letting go of dreams and desires she still found a way to be so positive and look this crap life dealt her and find good. Here she is having to shift was the role of horses will play in her life/ mine because being a horse show daughter (kinda like a soccer mom) is so hecking fun and so neat to watch your mom push herself each day to be better at something she loves is like next level role model. But she kept her horse, and he is now being shown by our trainer which has been a huge huge thing for her (bittersweet I see you). Alright 2022, I’ve had enough with the bitter and am starting to see sprinklings of sweet come in more and more. I graduated college (bit of bitter b/c mom couldn’t be there) I got to ride my bike across kenya. My brothers now live 20 minutes from me. I got to spend a lot of time at the ranch and see some sweet sweet friends. Well bittersweet rang tried and true when my mom called me and the brothers after getting home from a bike ride to say that she was waiting for grandma to come pick her up and drive her (because she couldn’t drive yet thanks hip) to the ER because she thinks dad had a stroke. Lets just say a lot of words that would make a sailor blush were said on that living room floor in Denver. While the slurring of speech that my dad had in that moment with mom was not in fact a stroke, he had had 3 asymptomatic strokes prior that week. Once again this freaking sucks but the strokes didn’t not leave residual effects, mom was with him when he slurred his speech, the doctors were not concerned at the moment. Turns out he had a 33mm hole in his heart that never closed after birth—a month and a half later I was in Kansas for 11 hours once again for the procedure—all went smooth!! As a family we had a laugh in dads hospital room about being able to compare our parents hospital rooms (dads was better) The geriatric unit (mom and dad) as I have dubbed them is healing and progressing well. I write all this not for anyone have any pity for our family or feel bad for us. I also recognize that all things considered it could have been so much worse and I want to be sensitive to that fact. Mainly I think I need to give myself the space to process the bitter of bittersweet and let the tears flow, as they are now, but also to see the sweet and the learning. To figure out if both can be held with open hands. Throughout this year the concept of manna and the Israelites in Exodus has been ever present on my mind. In Exodus 16 after they flee from Pharaoh, the Israelites find themselves hungry. God rains bread from the sky, manna, but instructs them to only take what they need for that day, as he will provide again tomorrow. As shit as this year has been I have found myself coming back to this characteristic of God—he will and does provide each day. Just because it’s a crappy deal doesn’t make God less good—sometimes it is just life. The song honey in the rock by brook ligertwood and brandon lake (go listen to it!!!) looks this idea of manna, too, and I have easily played 500 times in the last 8 months. But the song ends with the lyrics Oh, how sweet, how sweet it is To trust in you Jesus And I think that is where my sweet of bittersweet is coming from this year—to trust in Jesus and knowing that it is not always sweet, but it will provide daily. With love, Amy Cheers to Summer ‘19!! This was going to be an Instagram caption but in typical verbose amy fashion it got hecka wordy!!! and more thoughts kept a coming so I figured a blog would be more fitting. When reflecting on this summer, I dubbed it the summer of grace and self-confidence; which both are very fitting, but I feel like one more word could be added: present. I don’t think you can have either of the first two things if you aren’t in the present. For me being in the present really means, being ok with where you are in that moment. I have always struggled with being in the present, I am constantly wanting the next and newest adventure. sometimes the yearning is so strong it, I feel it physically and am almost paralyzed by it. It wasn’t though until this summer I really sat and explored what it looked for me to live in the present. This was spurred by the fact that I made my plans for my summer own my own. I decided I wanted to nanny because, 1 it allowed me to be home with my fam and show horses this summer and 2 it paid well. But the thing is a made this decision on my own, without any prayer put into it. Don’t get me wrong!!! I loved my boys this summer! We had so much fun! But at the beginning of the summer when I was seeing all my friend’s Instagrams of them dressed in crazy costumes, serving at kanakuk, there was an ache in my heart. Here they were loving on kids and sharing the gospel, getting paid next to nothing but doing it for the kingdom; and I’m sitting JOCO, getting paid substantially above the minimum wage, working a job where I was comfortable. This is where grace of Jesus comes in! “While we were STILL sinners, Christ died for us” Romans 5:8. Jesus died for me and still rose again even though I didn’t pray about my summer plans. His grace overflows [John 1:16]!!! That said though, it was also a gut check for me. While, God does not abandon us when we make decisions according to our own will, but he meets us there with grace: this is not how I wanted to live my life. I want to live my life in accordance with the heavenly father. And bc JC is just freaking amazing and is there, even when we try to walk on own path, HE walked along side me this summer. He created space for me to learn what it means to be present in the very exact moment I am in. He showed me his grace by not leaving me, even when I tried to live my life on my own. The grace of Jesus is something I so so so don’t deserve but He still gives. This summer by getting a glimpse of the grace JC gives me, I have been able to approach myself with a little more grace. This grace upon grace is what calms my anxious heart and silences the little voice (sometimes it’s a scream) in my head that tells me I have to be perfect all the time. All my enneagram 1s get me!! I am still working through this but when the feelings of imperfection and regret for making stupid, little mistakes and can use the model of grace from jesus for myself. Self-confidence. a buzz word that seems to be thrown around all too often, but seemingly never addressed how hard it is. It freaking sucks some days yall. You wake up feeling good about yourself and as the day goes on and the Instagram pics are seen, you go from feeling pretty bomb ass to a nice piece of trash. The comparison game is all too real. But this summer has taught me that it doesn’t always have to be that way. I am me. That is that. Does that mean I have the answer on how to be confident in who I am, personality or looks, 100% of the time? Haha don’t be crazy now. but I do know that my heavenly father the creator of all things, created me, and this is what I’m choosing to cling to. For me it has to be a choice. That has been the easy part, the hard part has been understanding that I am worthy enough to feel pretty. I don’t know where in life or when I started believing this (probably satan convinced me), but I felt that I wasn’t worthy enough of looking good. Almost like it was a bad thing when I did. I think I was so focused on just being myself, the goofy, direct, sometimes dramatic, servant hearted, sarcastic, caring person, that I forgot to allow myself to feel pretty—so then the times that I did, I felt guilty. I had convinced myself that wanting to feel pretty was a bad thing. This summer I came to realize it is all about your intentions. Putting on makeup and being like “dang I look good” does not make you a bad person. While I do not always need makeup to feel good about myself, its fun. Once I came to realize this, I found myself feeling more confident in the running shorts and xl shirt I threw on for work. I began to realize it is ok to feel good about myself. I mean there is def a balance of feeling good about yourself and being vain about it. Up until this point I think I was on the complete opposite end. But hey again it is all a work in progress!!!! Not sure if my take on self-confidence made sense to anyway—I hope it did or maybe someone can relate
Well this insta caption is about 1000 words too long. Cheers for a blog!!! Thanks for reading the glimpse into my heart this summer. Keep on being all beautiful humans you all are!! xoxo, amy I’m gonna say it. College is hard. And I’m sure what y’all are thinking, but it’s not the schoolwork I’m talking about the social/emotional side and how those blend together in a time of complete newness in our life.
These last 4 months have been amazing don’t get me wrong. It’s just been a lot harder than I would have expected. I’m not sure if people told me that going into college and I was just unwilling to listen or if no one talks about it. “College are some of the best years of your life” “you are going to love it” “the friends you make now will be the friends you have for life.” If all this things are true why did I spend the first month and half of school feeling lonely? Yeah I had people to sit with in the caf but it just still felt off. If you really think about it college is wack. Here let’s take 18 and 19 year old kids, most who have never lived alone before place them typically out of state and start school. But on top of that you have little to no friends, you are all but required (it feels) to know your major oh and by the way your family and support system that you have always know are a phone call away but sometimes that feels too far away. No wonder freshmen year can be pretty sucky at times. Instagram, Twitter, VSCO is constantly there for us to see all the new friends our high school friends are making. We want to be happy for them but there is that little feeling of replacement that creeps. We knew this was going to happen but it doesn’t make it any easier. Social media also puts this immense amount of pressure on us to post something to make it look like we are having a blast at college when really we want to be at home on our couch with our dog and mom. This is something I have fallen guilty to. But then again why would you want post about how hard college is, because remember we don’t talk about that. The beautiful thing about college is yeah as much as it sucks you are given a completely clean slate. You get to be the person you want to. You get to choose new friends and even branch out on a limb and be friends with people you probably wouldn’t have in high school. And through all this you are discovering your own path for your life and deciding how you fit into this world. Probably the hardest thing for me when it came to making new friends was balancing the strong introvert, shy side of me with knowing if I pushed through and hung out with people that I was maybe friends we could maybe become actual friends lol. It wasn’t always easy but I can definitely saw it was worth it!! I mean it still shocks me that I actually managed to make friends but somehow I did. And they are some of the most raddest people I have ever met!! I came into freshman thinking I didn't want to make new friends, but I am oh so glad I get to do life with the people I have met this year!!! College is sucky at times!! I’ve decided that is just part of it, but it does get better. Push into it! it does get better, but don’t feel like you have to have it all together because we all know that is not possible. Well I have been in the country for about 2 months now. Sometimes I still can’t believe that I actually lived in Africa (and other super rad places)—well actually most of the time I feel that way. I kept putting off writing this blog; maybe I felt like I had to have some profound essay about the last 9 months or maybe I felt like if I wrote about it, it would actually be over. Well NEWS FLASH its actually over, incase yall weren’t sure but shocker I’m not in Africa anymore. Wow! People I took a gap year! I lived abroad. I ate weird food. I ate good food. I met some amazing people. I took a running jump out of my comfort zone and somehow still loved it all. Reverse culture shock is just as real as culture shock—don’t let anyone tell you differently because frankly they are wrong. I figured I would experience some culture shock but wasn’t really sure what it was going to look like. Well for starters I forgot how to use a toilet: not like what do I do next but more as in how did I get here? It was a very out of body experience. It just felt so strange to be sitting in a bathroom stall with running water. [Back story for those who haven’t followed along, my house in Africa had no toilet—that’s right I used a hole. Some restaurants had actual toilets and others had holes. Needless to say I got used to squatting.] So yeah I forgot how to use a toilet. I also cried in Walgreens in downtown Denver. I was looking for Qtips (very stressful, right?!) I went to super markets in the Middle East and in Africa—like there was a Safeway in Jordan. But for some reason walking up and down ALL the aisles Walgreens it just sent me over the edge. After many a flustered minutes, a few tears welling up in my eyes I finally found my dad. He kind of just looked at me and was like uhhh?? But finally I found the Qtips and what do I see? 47 billion options of Qtips. I was so utterly overwhelmed. I managed to find what I needed and calm down enough to laugh with my parents about how weird it will be to be back in the states. But I think the weirdest culture shock thing was realizing there was no way to fully articulate what I had experienced this last year to people that didn’t experience it with me. We talked some during reentry week about this but I wasn’t sure what it would look like. The first time I noticed this was when I forgot how to use the toilet. I called my mom and this is how our conversation went. “Hey so reverse culture shock is for real a thing.” “How so?” “Well…I just forgot how to use a toilet…” “What do you mean? “What do you mean, what do you mean? “I just forgot… It didn’t feel normal.” In that moment I realized that even though my mom and I had talked about the year she didn’t actually walk the streets with me. There are still some days that are harder than others when it comes to culture shock. I have been asked a lot of questions since I have been back and I loved all of them because it is people’s way of showing they care. Although of all the questions I have been asked, I think my favorite question I have gotten is “What did you learn?” At first I was a little caught off guard because the person asking me this was a complete stranger, so I was expecting more of ‘oh what was your favorite place?’ but then she threw out what did you learn. I was struck but the raw intentionality of the question, and I think that is why it’s my favorite question I have been asked. I’m sure yall are dying to know the answer now (well if not, I’m going to tell you anyway), but I think the biggest thing I learned was within myself by realizing how judgmental I was. It was one of those things for me where it was internal, I would never say it out loud but for me it looked like ‘I’m better than this person because they do that and I don’t or I’m better than this person because they make this decision and I don’t because its wrong.’ But this year has taught me that EVERY SINGLE PERSON HAS A STORY!! And it is not my place to judge that person. If I don’t agree with someone I should come along side them and love them not push them away. Crazy it’s also how Jesus lived. I have lost count of the number of times I have told people to take a gap year, so just to add to that number, I’ll say it again. TaKE gAP YeAr PEopLE!!!!!!! it will be the best decision you ever make (or at least I hope so). It’s still crazy to me that it is all over but I guess the only way to move onto to something new is to have something end. As much as it sucks its over, I’m excited (also very scared) for the new. For all yall that don’t know, in the fall (well I guess actually less than a month) I’m going to Regis University in Denver, CO with plans to study elementary ed. If it weren’t for gap year I would have never found Regis or had the confidence to go to a school where the only people I know are the people in the freshman Facebook group but never actually talked to. I guess this is an end of an era per say. I thank each and every one of you for going on this journey with me the last 9ish months. Thank you for reading my rambles, sometimes cohesive and sometimes not so much. Thank you listening to my rants and triumphs this last year. I apologize that this wasn’t some profound essay but then again, why did even expect to be able to write one, this is gap year not Harvard. Oh because I never wrote about it. Kilimanjaro. it was one of the hardest things I have ever done; physically, spiritually, and emotionally. It was also one of the prettiest things I have ever seen. I loved my time on that mountain. As most of you know, I ended up not summiting. I had to turn around about 4 hours out from the false summit. Turning around and walking back down may be one of the hardest things I have ever done. but it was also one of the best things I could have ever done. it was pure surrender of me saying ‘ok I don’t have to prove myself.’ ‘climbing this mountain does not make me any better.’ ‘people are not going to like me more because I made it to the top.’ It was hard because I have spent my whole life trying to be the best and wanting to please people in the process but after 3 hours of tears I realized that climbing this mountain does not define me. I would not trade that week on Kili for anything. However, I do want to get to the summit not so the world can see me but so I can see the world. So kili thank you for everything you taught me the first time, but we got some unfinished business. Well I guess this is it. Here’s to forever being the weird gap year girl!!
Xoxo, Amy Uganda update:
I have thoroughly enjoyed watching how excited the Congolese are each day to learn something new. I cannot imagine learning a new language as an adult, it seems so hard—but everyone is so eager to learn. There is this one super cute, old guy named Alon (pronounced Aaron) who tries his hardest every day to learn something new. I guess he has always wanted to learn English so I love that he is doing it now, no matter how old he is. Teaching English though has only solidified the fact that the language we speak is quite complicated. We were learning the vowel sounds one day and it was going decently well, then they asked about two vowels next to each other. For example like ‘o & i’ in boil if each vowel had their own sound. Or another question was ‘why are been and seen not pronounced similar. We just stood in front of the chalkboard and were like uhh English is complicated we don’t really know. There also has been a lot of miming when trying to describe a vocab word. I still think my favorite thing we have done with them though is when I taught them what Mad-Libs were. We spent two days talking about nouns, verbs adjectives so I figured what better way to practice than with a Mad-Libs. It also reminded my of the many a car rides to Wyoming as a kid where we played Mad-Libs—Jake and Emma weren’t as excited about the Mad-Libs as I was, I think it’s because neither of their moms were English teachers. Or I’m just too in love with Mad-Libs, either way it was fun. Monday is our last class, many of the students have insisted that either we stay for 3 more months to teach them (I told them that I need to see my family first) or that we set up daily facetime calls so we can keep teaching them. Not sure if the second one will happen but I love that they are so eager to learn. I would just like to publically apologize for all the time I hated on podcast or is it podcasts??? Not sure either way I love them now. I think I have always just written off podcast/audio books because well actually I really not know why. One day I literally accidently clicked on the podcast app and saw this crime podcast that looked interesting so downloaded it. A few days later I casually mention at dinner how interesting this podcast was. Originally I got some crap for listening to a podcast, then the next dinner we were all on our phone sucking all the wifi trying to download our podcasts. Along with podcast Sudoku has also been picked up as a hobby—mainly by Noah, but she shares pages so all of us can experience the mental torture. I started one of the easy pages, still haven’t finished it. I was hauling, feeling pretty confident about myself then I realized that I had two 7s in a box and after that I haven’t gone back to the page haha. I have about 30 hours of travel ahead of me in the coming weeks so maybe I’ll finish it during that. Last weekend we went to Queen Elizabeth for another safari. It still completely boggles my mind on how easily accessible the animals are. When I think about elephants or lions I don’t think of them being a 3 hour drive from me. As I said about the other safari I went on, seeing wild animals in the wild is breathtaking. Oh we also slept in this bunk house in the park where the hippos grazed around the house at night, close enough to the point I could hear them lying in bed. Side note, did yall know hippos are herbivores, because I sure didn’t. Because this is Africa and safety regulations arent really a thing I sat on the roof of the safari van the whole time. Pretty sure my body is still sore but the view was amazing!! This weekend we went to Jinja to visit the Nile. I had heard before coming that I HAD to raft the Nile, I figured when was I going to be back here so I was determined to make it happen. Poor Justin, I asked him about every week if we were going to get to raft once we got to Uganda. And we got to! I had never rafted before but I figured that I am enough of an adrenaline junkie that I would love it. Rest assured, I absolutely loved it. The first rapid we went down was a class 5 with a 10 foot waterfall, after that I knew that this was just the thing I was going to love. The Nile is a pool drop river meaning there are huge rapids separated by large flat pools. It was nice because it divided the day up and wasn’t just constant rapids. I’m sure our guide enjoyed that to because as a boat we kind of sucked. He said that he would have graded us a C, he also was an arrogant, smart ass, Scottish man that knew what he was doing and was good at it so I think he just was annoyed with us. We still had so much fun, despite of him. Looking back now I am a little bit sad that I didn’t fall out of the raft. It seems like a lot of fun to go through a rapid without a boat, but drowning is also one of my biggest fears so maybe it was a good thing I stayed in the boat the whole time. Sunburn and all it was an amazing day! I would not have said that I had a particularly large sweet tooth, then I went abroad. There are sugar cravings then there are I am living in Africa I have only had beans and rice today sugar cravings. Even though I have had my far share of snack foods, I still miss food from back home. I have had a few different dreams about tacos. Its interesting though because I find myself craving things that I am allergic to and haven’t eaten for over a year—like some honey nut chex mix sounds amazing right now, or a huge bowl of cheesy corn from Jack Stacks or a DQ Blizzard. I have already informed the family that we are going to Oklahoma Joes as soon as I get home—this girl needs some BBQ.
Thank you for the continued support!! If you would pray and send some positive thoughts towards my Kili climb that would be amazing! We start climbing the 20th and it should take 7 days. I look forward to sharing all about afterwards. Xoxo, Amy |
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