Details, details

O.k. departure time is just around the corner now and I still feel as if way too many items on my to-do list remain unchecked!  All around me are tipping piles of partially finished documents; 401k beneficiary forms, tax forms, license renewals, decrees and health directives, travelers checks, itineraries, journals and poems, a will to file in a yet unnamed location; piles of clothing, books and cooking equipment, to sell, donate, throw out, give away, or to store - and more piles to sort through.  I physically and literally feel buried.

By this time in the process, I have touched and contemplated every aspect of my life, ad nausea.  Equipment and materials from hobbies and professions that I once thought defined who I am are dusted, spread out on the floor and sifted through to weigh their worth beyond sentiment.  What exactly is the value of the fly tying kit I haven't used in eight years?  When I see the equipment, such fond memories flood in from a time in my life when playing a fish played a more prominent role.  Why store it for another two and a half years just so I can recall the tautness of the bobbin in my hand, hear the hollow metallic string-note as I wind the thread round-n-round the shank of the hook to secure the hackle in place, smell the drop of glue applied to the head, and marvel at the brilliant red/green beauty of a Royal Coachman?  Maybe the sentiment is enough, all there really was in the first place.

And just as prodded and poked are my relationships; uncomfortable feelings sift in and out of my head through the day whispering I've not spent enough time with all those I care for and who care for me.  Or the time I did spend with someone didn't meet expectations, old subtle and minor grievances remained buried or simply re-arranged or rephrased without resolve.  All the days are measured and weighed, planned and re-planned, appointments are scheduled - lunches, dinners, quick trips for ice-cream, flights are booked, cancelled and re-booked for more efficient time management, overnights and day-trips, all laid out in scribbled pencil in the planner.  And there is still not enough time, no matter how much of the day is divided, nor the increments of the division.

Questions - excellent questions - are posed and pondered: Why help others when we need help ourselves?  What does it even mean to say you want to help someone?  Do they even want help?  What qualifies you to do what you are doing?  Isn't it a waste of taxpayer money?  Do you really think anything will change?  How can you leave the ones you love for so long?  Isn't that irresponsible?  And a generous and steady flow of support and enthusiasm is woven in to form the full tapestry of the experience.

So there it is - the hard and the soft of preparing for a life changing event, all normal happenings according to the Peace Corps folks; all abnormal for those in the midst of the change.  It is a wonderful, stimulating, thought-provoking, incredibly interesting and enjoyable experience and I'm so grateful to have the opportunity!  More later . . . have an appointment :)