Life Lesson

On February 1st it will be two years since I moved to Minneapolis. I remember the date because four months before that I had moved back to Iowa from Alaska. Before I begin, I should go even further back to when I graduated from college and moved to Nome, Alaska. I graduated with a social work degree and I was eager to work with Native Americans. I had finished up my senior year with an internship at the Division of Indian Work here in Minneapolis and had my sights on finding a job on a reservation or joining the Peace Corps. Instead, a friend told me about an interesting volunteer program at a radio station in bush Alaska that broadcast to several isolated Native villages. Within a week my application was dropped off at the post office. On July 1, 2002, I boarded a plane for Alaska. I had signed a contract to volunteer at KNOM for one year. After a year, I signed on for another. After two years, I took a job with Kawerak Native Corporation. Three years in Nome. It was the experience of a lifetime in so many ways; good, bad and a little something in the middle. Living in isolation does something to a person. Want to know what it does? Ask me over a beer! Just don't ask me after three. Anyway, after three years, I decided to return to the midwest for my master's degree. Since I already had my bachelor's degree in social work, I finished my MSW in one year. At the end of the year, KNOM offered me a job and I gladly accepted. I returned to Nome with my sights set on a future in Alaska. Yes, I would continue to advocate for Native issues. Yes, I would get married. Yes, I would build a life on the tundra and allow myself to be swallowed up by mother nature! I gladly traded in my professional clothes for a full suit of Carhart and fleece. Three months later, after finding my soul being sucked away in several different ways, I quit my job, ended a handful of relationships, and boarded a plane for Chicago. With tears streaming down my face and my possesions packed in a bag, I learned one of life's biggest lessons. Life doesn't always turn out the way you plan.
I had my whole life planned out (or thought I did) when I had left for Alaska. I returned to find that I didn't know what I was going to do the next day. I sulked for awhile. I got angry. I felt defeated and then I slowly put myself back together. I felt a need for a plan, but nothing was really calling out to me so I decided to try something different. The city. On New Year's Eve two years ago, I declared that I would be moving to Minneapolis. On February 1, 2007, I packed up a few boxes and moved into a small room in a lady's basement. It was actually the same room I rented when I interned my senior year of college. The same room I had completed my phone interview with KNOM. Only this time I didn't have a plan. Two years later, and I find that life is good. I took a chance without a plan and it has worked out for the best. I've found myself again in my little apartment by the lake. I'm a social worker at a residential facility for adults with severe and persistent mental illnesses. I've gotten back into performing improvised comedy and what initially was a hobby, has now become an obsession. I've found friendships with creative, interesting and caring people. I still pull out my fleece and take walks in the snow, rain and sunshine. I no longer feel isolated. I'm more open to the unknown than I ever was in the past. At times, I still worry about the future, but I'm finding it more comforting to enjoy what is.