If my mind was a search engine, the most looked up question would be:
” What am I doing?”
When I went on my first canoe boat with my older sister, who was just as inexperienced as I was with a canoe, this question appeared.
When I decided to take my friends beat-up car with crappy brakes onto an icy winter road one night, this question appeared.
When I stayed up till 4 am watching the Walking Dead, episode after episode, even though I had a history test the next day, this question appeared.
When I said good-bye to my family at the Madison airport on August 21, with a suitcase full of useless items and a mind full of doubt and concern and excitement, this question appeared.
When I woke up on a creaky mattress in Alliance Redwoods, California, this question appeared.
When I stepped onto a plane heading for Dakar, Senegal with 22 people who, a week ago, had been strangers, but who now seemed to be some of the most admirable and interesting Fellows I’d ever come to know, this question appeared.
When I woke up to the sound of pattering rain in a hotel in Dakar, Senegal, this question appeared.
And now, as I sit on my host mothers comfortable leather couch, typing this blog post, I can’t help but wonder…what am I doing? Where am I heading? What have I gotten myself into?
And even though I don’t have the answers, and I’m not sure if I ever will, I have a strong feeling that this is exactly where I am supposed to be, sitting comfortably on Awa Ba’s (my host moms) couch. And I have accepted the attitude where instead of crying over a confusing situation, I will embrace all opportunities, and accept both good and bad experiences as motivation for my life goals, and try to see the good in every situation.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
I don’t where I’m heading.
But that’s okay.
Because I’m exactly where I am supposed to be.
And come to think of it, so are you.
