Clear path

Summer is in the air. I can feel it, as I scramble trying to prepare for next year, next week, tomorrow. This is the first summer in San Francisco when I will have time to breathe, paint, play, prepare. I won't have to look for jobs or peruse the Wall Street Journal or find a new apartment on Craig's List. I won't have to be in an empty school in the middle of a foggy downtown block, trying to make the French words ooze from my mouth as artistically as I want them to. I will be able to spend time with kids, create, travel, serve, and enjoy life before I start school in the fall. Assuming that I figure out how I'm going to make it all work out before then.

Talking to my friend, roommate, and recent care-giver! Rachael today, I realized that I wish there was a clear, defined path. That God would just say to me, "Here, Meg, this is the reason why you are in San Francisco" or in your job, or with this person at this moment. I tend to overanalyze everything, trying to fit together the puzzle pieces myself so that I can unravel the enigma before He reveals it to me.

I had a moment during yoga today when I was trying to visualize a Buddha smile, or happiness. These moments are hard for me, because while happiness is tangible, I don't feel like I can make it so if it isn't really there. I have a hard time visualizing when I was happy, I would rather feel it in the moment and be so full of joy that I'm not trying to remember this particular moment when I am happy. But I've learned that I'm not happy because I live where I do, because I have the friends I do, because I have the opportunities I do. I've strived to attain happiness my whole life, but it will never come from having the next best thing, if...then.

So, do I want a clear path or do I expect one? Is it everyone else's expectations for me that keep getting entangled in my daily web of life? I think it's more of an expectation that I've placed upon myself that keeps me from experiencing the present. Like the good thing about today was not that I figured out my plans for September, but that I literally walked up to the bus stop as the bus was coming (which I would define as being the pinnacle of my happiness most days). Like the good thing about my job, I've gotten to connect with my school's community, fete-ing with parents and teachers in the most unlikely of places.

As I write this, an email from one of these unexpected connections comes, stating "belle de loin mais loin d'etre belle." Sums it all up, coincidentally in an email, "it's beauty from afar but far away to be beautiful." The clear path, it's so far away, that it is beautiful.