I wasn’t ready to save the world, at least not by myself, but this is what I was told after college. “You’ll save the world,” resounded baby boomers, friends of my parents, who must have somehow felt their saving abilities had passed. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do–I knew I wanted to write, and to be happy, but in the spring and summer of 2009, what I knew more than anything was that I could not hold the wants and expectations of others; it was all I could do to just to find the scattered pieces of myself in a time of great transition.
So, in 2009 when it may have seemed smarter to make decisions with my head, I instead threw out the valiant idea of saving the world and followed my instinct, my heart, on a much more important journey to let the world save me. The looping path led me from Vermont to New Zealand, Tasmania, Alaska, and back to Vermont again, and now here I am, on a western slope facing the Worcester Range, with a husband, two dogs, fifteen acres, a burgeoning farm, and a baby growing inside me.If you’ve read my journey from my first blog post, you know how I got here. But what I’ve learned is that how I got here is not always as important as the fact that I am here. Sometimes, I feel full of possibilities with everything surrounding me. Other times, I look at our bank account and wonder how we will ever get to where we’re going. We keep moving, though, finding a balance between our heads and our hearts, and from it all I am learning patience and how things take time. I am learning the beauty of slowness, though one day we will look back and say how quickly it all happened. I am learning the pace of moment to moment, allowing things to unfold as they are ready, and as I am ready. We take in only as much as we can hold, and then we overflow, and both the filling and the flowing are beautiful.
It has been a while since I’ve heard the declaration, “You’ll save the world,” and I admit I don’t miss it. It it not to say that I don’t love the world, though. After all I’ve experienced, perhaps this is what I’ve learned: the world doesn’t need to be saved, it just needs to be known. So let yourself be filled, and let yourself overflow. There is so much still to discover.