Upon entering this world the cover is opened and our story begins. The pages lie blank awaiting the ink of our lives to be inscribed into history. Every passing moment is not a word; it is a thousand words capturing the essence of each time; recording it and storing it before the next page is turned; before a thousand more words fall upon our present only to hurriedly transform into our past. And always hidden beyond the horizon, inevitably impending, the ending lies in wait. Often forgotten . . . often unspoken of . . . every story must conclude, and ours will undoubtedly too. Predestined as that is, this point in time is where we live, and it is these pages between the covers that must occupy our time. Chapters come and chapters go but here is where our lives unfold.
We are the authors of our lives, holding the pens in our very own hands (September edition). With this comes the control of when a chapter will start then end. It is often the case that an author becomes too complacent within a single chapter. The roots of routine have grown deep, and the branches of familiarity have stretched too far and wide. Every Volunteer here knows how it feels to rip out those roots and saw off the branches; to be a stump on new soil, with only adaptability, self-reflection and resolve to flourish once again (March edition). Why would one choose such a path of self-loss and uneasiness? Look at the banana trees of Butaritari for your answer. From a seedling it will grow into a tree with a stock. Chop off the stock and there the tree will remain, never to bear fruit again. Cut down that tree from the base, however, and there it starts anew, to mature bigger and produce a stock of greater size. It is only by removing oneself from the box of placidity can one truly see oneself, the world, and one’s place within that world. And it is through this conscious choice can the path of enlightenment illuminate.
As I turn the page to a new chapter in my life and detach from my roots and branches of Kiribati; anticipation trickles in as a new journey begins, to bear fruit in the future that I cannot yet foresee. And while I wait in transition, reflection is a given. I know what I am taking away. It is a chapter filled with memories; an addition to my book; a physical, mental and spiritual sculpting experience. And what is it I am leaving behind? This cannot be known for sure, but hope is all I can embrace. I hope I have touched the lives of just at least a few. I hope I have filled the chapters of others with blissful words. But most of all, I hope I am leaving this place brighter than before. For if nothing else in this world, it can only be hoped that each person aspires to brighten each day. And that is all it takes my friends to gratify our lives until the very ends.
This is the last post in my Peace Corps blog. I will, however, leave it as is for others to stumble across in their searches to learn about Kiribati and the Peace Corps. For those of you who have followed my experience and possibly that of other Volunteers in country, I thank you for your support and kind words. Since a new chapter of my life is starting a new blog should accompany that as well. A link will be added to this webpage directing you to my future adventures.
Cheers and tiabo,
Andy
We are the authors of our lives, holding the pens in our very own hands (September edition). With this comes the control of when a chapter will start then end. It is often the case that an author becomes too complacent within a single chapter. The roots of routine have grown deep, and the branches of familiarity have stretched too far and wide. Every Volunteer here knows how it feels to rip out those roots and saw off the branches; to be a stump on new soil, with only adaptability, self-reflection and resolve to flourish once again (March edition). Why would one choose such a path of self-loss and uneasiness? Look at the banana trees of Butaritari for your answer. From a seedling it will grow into a tree with a stock. Chop off the stock and there the tree will remain, never to bear fruit again. Cut down that tree from the base, however, and there it starts anew, to mature bigger and produce a stock of greater size. It is only by removing oneself from the box of placidity can one truly see oneself, the world, and one’s place within that world. And it is through this conscious choice can the path of enlightenment illuminate.
As I turn the page to a new chapter in my life and detach from my roots and branches of Kiribati; anticipation trickles in as a new journey begins, to bear fruit in the future that I cannot yet foresee. And while I wait in transition, reflection is a given. I know what I am taking away. It is a chapter filled with memories; an addition to my book; a physical, mental and spiritual sculpting experience. And what is it I am leaving behind? This cannot be known for sure, but hope is all I can embrace. I hope I have touched the lives of just at least a few. I hope I have filled the chapters of others with blissful words. But most of all, I hope I am leaving this place brighter than before. For if nothing else in this world, it can only be hoped that each person aspires to brighten each day. And that is all it takes my friends to gratify our lives until the very ends.
This is the last post in my Peace Corps blog. I will, however, leave it as is for others to stumble across in their searches to learn about Kiribati and the Peace Corps. For those of you who have followed my experience and possibly that of other Volunteers in country, I thank you for your support and kind words. Since a new chapter of my life is starting a new blog should accompany that as well. A link will be added to this webpage directing you to my future adventures.
Cheers and tiabo,
Andy
Good luck to you, Andy! It's been fun reading about your time in Kiribati.
Posted by: Kevin | January 24, 2007 at 07:56 AM
Andy, best wishes in the future! We hope you are able to make the same impact elsewhere as you did in Kiribati, and we hope for your happiness.
Posted by: Rich and Sue Kohl | January 24, 2007 at 09:07 PM
Very well said. You truly own a travelers heart.
Posted by: Dad | January 27, 2007 at 03:24 PM
Great blog!!!
If you like, come back and visit mine: http://albumdeestampillas.blogspot.com
Thanks,
Pablo from Argentina
Posted by: Pablo (yo) | November 24, 2009 at 10:55 AM