Bugs

So I had this realization. After growing up in a religious setting where being a missionary was just about the tip-top of the pyramid, an idealization formed. And somewhere along the way I developed this idea that the ultimate best thing I could do with my life was to move to some desolate village, wear horribly unfashionable clothes (sorry missionaries), serve "the poor", and eat weird foods including, but not limited to, bugs.

Grab your machetes. Let's quickly slash through the gross cultural stereotyping, potential ethnocentric landmines, nationalism, etc. and get to today's qualm.

That paradigm never shifted. The religious component slowly trickled away but the fashion, the "poor" (I know I am being all kinds of politically incorrect here), and the bugs are still very vivid. So I was talking with someone about this the other day. And I expected him to bring up my tendency to assume that whatever is difficult, painful, and miserable must be the most noble option. Given two comparable options, I would assume that whatever option cost more for me would be the better of the two.

But he told me that I just needed to figure out what was out there, realistically. Take it from a vague idea to a concrete program. And then after that step, I should probably go do it. Because if I didn't, I'd spend the rest of my life regretting the loss and feeling like I missed out/wasted something/should have done something differently.

I gave it some thought. And I think he's got a good point, as evidenced by my stint in Spain. I had always wanted to live in Europe and somewhere around the 6th grade I started jonesing to get out of the small town I lived in. Would I have wasted my life if I had never crossed the ocean? Not necessarily. Would I have been a failure? Not necessarily. Yet did I still feel relieved, accomplished, and proud of myself afterward? Absolutely. I no longer feel the need to live there again. I would enjoy it, in smaller doses, but I don't feel any pressure anymore. Do I sound like a whiny little privileged girl? Probably.

Thus begins the search. I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Digging wells, for some reason, is the idea my brain is choosing to romanticize at the moment. Something without frills, something difficult, something challenging. I'm learning that I have to keep the balance of challenge tuned in my life. Too little challenge and the anxiety rises. Too much challenge and the exhaustion rises. Just enough challenge is a thrill.

I'd like to add 2 caveats: One, LASP helped me to begin, at least a little, to get rid of the savior mentality. The mentality that says (with or without knowing it) that, "Oh hey, my culture/race/country/whatever is so great. Let me help this lesser/weaker/whatever group because I am so magnanimous and noble." Nope. All I know is I want to go somewhere, and do something that benefits someone else. In a foreign country where I might have to eat bugs. 2) I will probably have a supernatural ability to power through the insects on account of my lifetime membership in the Banana Slug Club. Membership photo shown below.



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