(Just like) Starting Over

As long as we're breathing and aware, I suppose that - hopefully - we're growing, too.

Sometimes I think I've had enough of the growing, really. When will there be a flower? How about some new leaves? Maybe it's just time for a new pot?

There's no question that growth is, or should be, a natural part of life, but what if we thought we were going to produce big, fragrant, red flowers and we only make little yellow bursts of color that are short lived and not-too fragrant? What if there are no flowers at all? What then?

Sometimes I feel like that - my education, experience, training...successes and lessons from all of those; they just don't matter.

True enough, an education can never be taken away, nor can the lessons from experiences - both personal and professional - but they can seem useless if they cease to have value. How is the value determined? Is it the market price, i,e, can I get a job with it?, or is it the personal sense of satisfaction (ego)?

For the entirety of my adult life, I've worked to create some kind of stability - went to college, bought a house, tried to engage a bit in "lifelong learning" (real estate certification, American Planning Association certification, TESOL certification...)

I guess the long and short of it was that I wanted to be "safe".

Five years ago I embarked on a journey that was both safe and not safe - a path that seemed to be perfect - a job (safe) that blended all of the things that I worked so hard to cultivate, stockpile, and that were meaningful to me; education, experiences, and most of all, my faith, but to a place far, far away with a culture that is, in many ways, the exact opposite of the one from which I come, or as I like to day, the same, but different.

Three years ago I threw safety to the wind. Accountable, honest, and ready to accept the consequences for my decisions and actions, everything.

Today I not only reflect on the idea of "safety"; stability, predictability, and comfort, but I also reflect on what it means NOT to have those things - is that the essence of life? How often do we THINK that we're safe - our jobs are secure, our relationships are forever - only to be taken by surprise when we discover that we were wrong?

Maybe I thought I'd be one step ahead of the game - all we can control, after all, are the things that are IN our control...namely our actions and our thinking. Was I safe in being accountable for those things? Did I mean to be safe, or was I merely trying to take ownership of my life and my decisions?

Looking back, the reasons don't really matter. I did what I thought was best based on the situation at hand.

The fallacy in my thinking is as multi-faceted and complex as would be expected in a cross-cultural experience. Knowledge, indeed, does not equal understanding (and that is demonstrated so effectively in this video)

Even though I KNEW what needed to be done or SHOULD be done, my brain just couldn't/wouldn't/didn't do it - after watching this video, I realized that I've been way too hard on myself for a few years.

The first time I began to cultivate my awareness that indeed, knowledge was not understanding may have been in August 2011 ... I was certainly feeling lost, all right.

To mediate those fears and the muddled confusion, I rode my bicycle. Two things that have been constants in my life that ALWAYS, always, make me happy are riding a bike and playing in the woods.

Riding my bike allowed time to think, reflect, and deplete some pent up energy.

I once wrote a post about how living here is like riding my fixie.  The point was that as long as I paid attention and kept peddling, the ride could be enjoyable.

Now, almost four years later, knowledge is yielding to a bit of understanding, but the bias that is in my brain is still there and even though I'm aware of it, it's mighty hard to change.

In conclusion, the education, experience, and lessons I had learned throughout my life are really helpful in the appropriate context, but now...here? They're not that useful. And I even think they're not all that valuable.

I need to start over. To begin and build again.

It can't be too hard, can it? I mean, it's as easy as riding a bike.