Just let me catch my breath...

I forgot why I came here.

Somewhere in the adventure,

and the excitement,

and the discoveries…

…the entirety of my initial intentions were lost. With everything new, everything fun, everything being such a great learning experience, I lost sight of the countless midnight prayers, blown out birthday candles, and shooting stars that I had secured to this sabbatical.

I didn’t come here for a rollercoaster ride of exhilaration and enjoyment. I wasn’t looking for the same happy-go-lucky holiday that people who need a break from their stress-filled lives hunt for. I wasn’t running away from the boredom of my life in Canada. I wasn’t seeking something fun and care-free. If those cases were true, it wouldn’t have been the brightest choice to choose an undeveloped country in sub-Saharan Africa and live with a community devoted to poverty and a simple lifestyle.

I loved my life in Vancouver. It was fun and exciting and happy-go-lucky. Sure, it wasn’t perfect and it had it’s own drama with boyfriends and bosses and friends and money, but I was happy and definitely wasn’t bored. I have amazing friends who I love dearly, and had a job that could easily have turned into a successful career for someone with a work ethic and determination such as mine. Life was really good. I’ve actually been really blessed. My entire life has been really good. Not perfect, still lots of hard times, but I’ve seen some of the shoes people walk in, and wouldn’t trade mine for anything.

And at some point, I realized this life of mine that was so ‘care-free’ trapped me. Trapped me in this idea of life that I could have continued to foolishly believe. I might as well have written “Warning: Naïve and Ignorant” on my forehead in permanent ink to keep people from confusing me with someone who was innocent.

How’s this for a reason?

I was 21 and already feeling like my life wasn’t headed where I wanted it to go.

Life was great, yes, but so unfathomably busy and well-planned that I had forgotten how to live in the moment. I was too exhausted in the evenings to bother trying to reflect on anything, and when I did, I would spiral into all my insecurities and faults that I wasn’t dealing with during the day. So to summarize, from a societal stand point, I was doing superbly. My life was well beyond where any 21 year olds should have been and was headed on a road that could only mean future success. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that if I was already living “The Life”, and yet was quickly falling into a seemingly hopeless depression every time I was alone, that continuing to chase the American Dream to find happiness wasn’t going to work for me. It’s a weird state to be in when you are completely happy with your life and everything about it, and still, go home at night and acknowledge that despite how happy these ‘worldly’ things make you, you know they will never truly satisfy you to the level you are craving. And that’s where I was trapped: a stupid circle of societal wishes that would only ever amount to more money, more stuff and more depression. No wonder half of North America is on anti-depressants or addicted to alcohol; I’m not the only one that should have “Naïve and Ignorant” jiffy markered on my face.

Ok, so what does this recently graduated, hardly experienced, overly motivated young lady plan on learning in Africa?

Patience.

I gave up the idea that there was ever a point in life where I would “figure things out” a long time ago. I can’t recall what triggered this realization and made me drop the fantasy, but I knew I wasn’t going to cognitively chase the answers anymore. It’s a fine balance between loving and accepting the way life is and simultaneously insisting on continuing to move forward and grow. But accepting where life is

takes a lot of patience. Patience isn’t something that my generation was armed with. While we aren’t titled the “Now” generation, we did follow them and learned a lot of their habits - bad and good.

So I did it. I took a risk. I dropped everything in search of PATIENCE to love life as it is and in search of the COURAGE to continue fighting to move forward despite how wonderful or how horrible it might seem. I, in every sense, emotionally, mentally and physically handed everything in my life over to God for him to choose what to give back to me. And it wasn't easy. Ask anyone who spent anytime with me before I left; I wasn't myself. When I left I had no idea what to expect, how long I was going to be gone and where my life was going to end up. That’s a pretty scary place to walk into: the complete unknown.

This trip to Ghana was a huge Time-Out. A chance to step out of my comfort zone and Learn about Life. I wanted to Gain Perspective that I couldn’t see by living the same life I’ve always been. I needed to Challenge Myself in a way that only God could keep me from failing at. I had to find the time for some Self-Discovery. This trip was the opportunity to Catch my Breath.

I know what made me lose sight of it because it was gone before I even handed the flight attendant my boarding pass. Somehow I was lured back into believing what everyone else was telling me about this trip. What a huge adventure I was going on! How exciting! I was set on having no expectations for, during or after the trip, and then somehow half-heartedly committed myself to wanting to travel the world because this was the time to do it - while I was young and free and single and didn’t have anything holding me back. I mean, who wouldn’t want to do that, right? I know I would… if it was adventure and excitement I was looking for.

A close, lifelong, family friend of mine was killed in car accident last Monday along with her husband. I’ve know this girl since I was born. She was only 24, was married in February and gave birth to her now-orphaned son shortly after. This tragedy ravaged me back to reality, and every time I think of her, it drags me back over and over and over again. Being so far away from the life I was living made it seem like a fantasy and I was almost unsatisfied with the way my little adventure in Africa was going. Because I was so aware of how great I had it there and can see how huge a step down I took in the luxury department when moving here, it kind of felt like I was missing out on something. Like this trip was supposed to be magical excitement all day long. But then Megan comes to my mind and - through realizing I don’t actually live in a bubble where people around me don’t get hurt, where life is fair, where I’m invincible - I’m grounded and reminded that I’m not here seeking adventure. I’m here seeking patience and courage so that I can go home and appreciate life with an understanding that breaks the walls of that ‘care-free’ cube society raised me in, helps me love my life for every moment its worth and continue to drive forward with the motivation and ambition that IS Miranda.

And just like there is never a point that I will “figure things out”, there will never be a moment where I’ve become patient and courageous. Those, too, are never ending journeys. But at least now I can say I have the patience to love even the slow, uneventful days where I bide my time just sitting and journaling in the garden day-hut (even if it is the 6^th day in a row because Darrin is down with Malaria after the holidays). Or how I can go a whole 24hours having done NOTHING productive with myself but know that life was still very much worth living that day if only for the thoughts and discoveries I made about myself, the air I breath, and my relationship with God.

And how I have the courage to go home and be 100% confident saying that I will never be 100% confident with myself (and I’m not willing to fake it.) And no matter what decision I make when this bout of my journey comes to a close about where I want my life to take me, I know it won’t be a mistake. Because, as the journal Jules gave me says “There is no set path…” At least now, even if I choose to devour every inch of that American Dream, I made the choice to do so because my heart told me it’s what it wanted, and not because it’s what society told me I wanted. At least, at 22, I have enough faith in my strength and ability to lead my life where I want it to go.

I’ve caught my breath.

Rest in Peace, Megan. You are now and forever, dearly loved and missed.