Letting Go
I had this vision for myself. When I was 18, I mapped it all out.
I would study English Literature and become an English high school teacher. Not once in my undergraduate or graduate program did I deviate from this path. Not once did I consider changing majors or regret the one I’d chosen. When I taught at the International School of the Americas as part of my Master’s Program internship, I realized I’d absolutely made the right choice for my life. At the end of each day I was tired, sometimes exhausted, and even often emotionally drained. But I was happy, fulfilled. Every single day I understood the purpose of my life so clearly. I knew my job was special; I knew the opportunity to learn with the young minds of the nation and help, in however minute a way, steer them and uplift them was a precious one, indeed.
But when I came on pilgrimage I realized that there were still things about myself I needed to learn, things I would only learn when I devoted myself wholly and completely to service. So I deviated from the path. I decided to come serve at the Bahá’í World Centre for 30 months instead of go straight into teaching, as I had originally planned. Of course, this “deviation” from the path has undoubtedly placed the ripple effect…well, into effect. So suddenly this small change altered my whole vision of my life. The vision was something like this:
18-22 Bachelor’s and Master’s
23-27 Teach, get married by 24, enjoy marriage, career, and service in Bahá’í community somewhere in the US, probably California.
27- start family, take a few years off from teaching to focus on primary educator responsibilities towards my children.
31-?, back in the classroom. Live out “normal” life (family, career, children, service.)
Really; this is how clearly I saw it all. I guess in retrospect it’s a little ridiculous, perhaps arrogant, that I assumed I had so much control over my life. That things would fall neatly into place as I envisioned them. Still, until I came here, everything had gone according to this plan. And I was happy. Unbelievably happy; so my decision to come to Haifa had nothing to do with wanting a change or wanting an escape. It was just…the right thing to do.
And now that I’m here…oh man, I cannot even begin to put into words how right it is. The things I’ve learned, the people I’ve met, the love I’ve felt grow and multipy and stretch for my faith, for my co-workers in the field of service, for humanity. None of this would have happened as quickly or intensely had I not come.
But now there’s that older vision of my life, a vision that frankly still holds an appeal. And yet everyday it slips further away, slowly inching from improbable towards impossible.
Sometimes it’s frightening to me. The idea of letting go. The idea that the trajectory I’d pictured will never materialize. But you just…trust.
I think it’s okay to have goals. To work hard for them. But we also have to have a certain flexibility in our lives. Show a measure of renunciation-of willingness to be open to God’s plan; and we have to recognize that sometimes His plan doesn’t align with ours. But His is always better. That’s what I’ve learned this year.
I would study English Literature and become an English high school teacher. Not once in my undergraduate or graduate program did I deviate from this path. Not once did I consider changing majors or regret the one I’d chosen. When I taught at the International School of the Americas as part of my Master’s Program internship, I realized I’d absolutely made the right choice for my life. At the end of each day I was tired, sometimes exhausted, and even often emotionally drained. But I was happy, fulfilled. Every single day I understood the purpose of my life so clearly. I knew my job was special; I knew the opportunity to learn with the young minds of the nation and help, in however minute a way, steer them and uplift them was a precious one, indeed.
But when I came on pilgrimage I realized that there were still things about myself I needed to learn, things I would only learn when I devoted myself wholly and completely to service. So I deviated from the path. I decided to come serve at the Bahá’í World Centre for 30 months instead of go straight into teaching, as I had originally planned. Of course, this “deviation” from the path has undoubtedly placed the ripple effect…well, into effect. So suddenly this small change altered my whole vision of my life. The vision was something like this:
18-22 Bachelor’s and Master’s
23-27 Teach, get married by 24, enjoy marriage, career, and service in Bahá’í community somewhere in the US, probably California.
27- start family, take a few years off from teaching to focus on primary educator responsibilities towards my children.
31-?, back in the classroom. Live out “normal” life (family, career, children, service.)
Really; this is how clearly I saw it all. I guess in retrospect it’s a little ridiculous, perhaps arrogant, that I assumed I had so much control over my life. That things would fall neatly into place as I envisioned them. Still, until I came here, everything had gone according to this plan. And I was happy. Unbelievably happy; so my decision to come to Haifa had nothing to do with wanting a change or wanting an escape. It was just…the right thing to do.
And now that I’m here…oh man, I cannot even begin to put into words how right it is. The things I’ve learned, the people I’ve met, the love I’ve felt grow and multipy and stretch for my faith, for my co-workers in the field of service, for humanity. None of this would have happened as quickly or intensely had I not come.
But now there’s that older vision of my life, a vision that frankly still holds an appeal. And yet everyday it slips further away, slowly inching from improbable towards impossible.
Sometimes it’s frightening to me. The idea of letting go. The idea that the trajectory I’d pictured will never materialize. But you just…trust.
I think it’s okay to have goals. To work hard for them. But we also have to have a certain flexibility in our lives. Show a measure of renunciation-of willingness to be open to God’s plan; and we have to recognize that sometimes His plan doesn’t align with ours. But His is always better. That’s what I’ve learned this year.
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