How Will I Return to the US After This Year?!
As much as I try to stay in the present, most days while doing idle tasks, I find my mind drifting to other places and other thoughts. Several months ago, those moments were stressful and filled with worry about how to maximize my time, how my itinerary would shape out, and concern over making sure that I was doing everything right.
It would be a lie to say that these thoughts don’t still come and go occasionally as I walk my daily route from the hotel where I am staying to the pediatric oncology ward at the hospital where I am working. But, those types of thoughts aren’t dominating my contemplative moments anymore. Rather, I have found myself thinking a lot more about what I am gaining from this year, what I still want to gain or improve upon, what I have learned and have yet to learn, and where I want to take all of that when I return back home.
Embracing Change with More Excitement and Less Stress
I have found myself daydreaming about the possibilities of breaking free from my original itinerary with less apprehension and more excitement - which I honestly can’t say was true earlier in my project. Six months in, I feel like I have embraced a better attitude with regard to letting the project and possibilities guide me rather than the other way around.
Take my time in New Zealand for example. When I applied to the Watson Fellowship, I proposed to work with one group for my entire three months in Christchurch. Approximately two and a half months before my departure, I found out that this would not be possible and I had to pivot. In retrospect, I can see the great benefit of this change and how thankful I am that it occurred. But, at the time, frankly, I was overwhelmed, convinced I’d find no suitable replacement for the experience I had imagined in that timeframe, and feigned a positive outlook when discussing the upcoming adventure with friends and family. With everything arranged, I arrived in the country, with a moderate sense of stability, only to be thrown off again a matter of weeks into my stay, forcing me to change plans again. Later on, in my 90-day stint, I made the decision to adjust my schedule to fit in two new opportunities that presented themselves, which meant visiting two extra cities. My announcement of this news in family groups chats or on my blog was met with eagerness from others, meanwhile, despite being my own choice, I felt ungrounded and anxious most of the time - worried that my planning was not good enough, that I was not doing the right things for the goals of my project, and, in general, I just lived in my head too much to enjoy the coolness of what I was actually doing for the most part.
But, I have witnessed a personal shift - I have become much more willing to go with the flow. For example, last week, I made the decision to scratch an entire part of my original itinerary here in Senegal after discussing it with the team at my current hospital and realizing it wasn’t the wisest plan. I felt a sense of calm in doing so, despite knowing that I would disappoint the other group I would have visited. But, I focused on the joy of spending more time with my current placement and expanding the growth and learning that I am doing in this environment.
Just the other day, I realized that I will be leaving Senegal fairly soon (about 3 or 4 weeks!) and I have yet to identify a starting organization to work with in Belgium upon my arrival (I also have yet to book a flight, which would have freaked me out even 3 months ago). Despite this, my brain has not been crammed with negative thoughts about how things will work out. Occasionally, a mental reminder pops in to tell me to send another follow-up email or try a new search term to locate a different group. I have also spent time thinking about how else I might use that time in a way that feels fulfilling, productive, and enriching. So, I have started to research organizations and travel requirements for various Asian countries, since that is the only continent (besides Antarctica) not on my list right now. And, surprisingly, I don’t feel stressed by this, but rather excited by the possibility. Excited to think about what I could do, where I could go, and what I could learn - no matter what the challenges to getting to that point might look like.
More Pride and Perspective
When I was in Chile, I noticed that I would often beat myself up over not doing more while at work because I couldn’t always convince myself to break out of my self-consciousness with the language barrier to start a conversation or, when I did, I would nitpick every mistake that I made. I neglected to sit back and think about the fact that I was living in a foreign country and fairly successfully navigating it in a language that I learned formally for only three weeks. Beyond that, I was having long conversations with families and coworkers about vulnerable and emotional topics and I was able to not only maintain these conversations but understand them and contribute to them.
I’m not entirely sure what has shifted between then and now, but I have found myself offering a lot more grace in situations where I previously would have been quite self-critical. I am allowing myself the time and space needed to experience the events of this year, process them, and also recover from them.
During my time in Chile, I had a realization that has vastly impacted my perspective and experience in Senegal so far. One of the biggest questions that emerged in my conversations in Chile was related to what it means to give support and receive support. Going into this project, I hadn’t questioned this. Although I expected the support itself to have differences, I hadn’t anticipated that the question as a whole would have different meanings and be interpreted differently depending on the cultural context. This idea was only heightened with my arrival in Senegal, where I learned about the plethora of ways that tradition, religion, and cultural practices influence the ways medicine and psychology are approached, offered, or not.
This revelation helped me discover where a lot of my uncertainty and discomfort stemmed from during my time in New Zealand. In a previous blog post, I wrote about how I struggled with worries over if I was approaching this project “right” or even learning about what I set out to do in the first place. In Chile, I realized that, in fact, so far in my time away as a Watson Fellow, I wasn’t learning about what I had planned to learn about while I was envisioning my year in the US – which is actually ideal!
Back in the US, I did research on this topic, read books, attended seminars, and even became a death doula. I grew a sense of comfort with what it means to talk about, learn about, and explore the topic of death in this context. But that is the key point. It was in the context of the United States. During the first probably four and a half months of my Watson year, I was still thinking of my project, my approach, my learning, and my discoveries within my lens of understanding from the United States. The way that I was thinking about the topic of life, death, illness, family, support, tradition, etc. all were based on how I understood them in my own life. So, in the beginning, it didn’t feel like I was actually exploring what I set out to explore or getting to the root of the questions that I had posed. In talking with mentors and professionals I have met in these countries, I have learned to ask different questions and think about these topics based on the context of where I am. And I am feeling much more fulfilled and feel as though I am discovering so much more. I am not forcing what I am observing into my pre-made American schemas of understanding but accepting them as new concepts and ideas to explore and look at with fresh eyes.
Further, I am beginning to acknowledge all that I have learned in the past six months, which I hadn’t before - or at least not been able to articulate. To start my placement in Senegal, my team asked me to give a brief presentation on my experience with my fellowship thus far and what insights I have gained. Doing that, I started to piece together just how much I have observed and how I am able to speak about all of it. But, just the other night, I had a video call with a grief support social worker from the US who was asking me questions about my project (based on that US perspective) and it really became evident just how much insight I have into this topic and how much more there is still left for me to learn and how much passion I have to do so.
Returning to the moments of idle thoughts, I have found myself, from time to time, envisioning a presentation I could make for hospital groups in the US to challenge their assumptions and biases, expand their cultural understanding, and broaden how they might approach death themselves and with patients. These are extremely valuable things that I have gained from my time away and I don’t want to be the only one to benefit from this experience. I have mental images of slides to create and interactive activities to conduct (a funny thing to daydream about, I know!).
How in the World Will I Return to Normal Life in the US After This Year?
Thinking about a presentation to give back home makes me wonder about how I will do so. Lately, a lot of my reflection as I get ready for the day and unwind in the evenings has revolved around how the heck I will go back to regular life after living this amazing, whirlwind of an experience for a year. I mean this in a few senses - both in terms of what realistically and day-to-day that will look like, as well as what values, perspectives, and traits that I have gained from this will I continue to carry with me.
The other day, I finished working on my responses for the common application for child life internships, the final step required to become a child life specialist. The question responses are limited to 200 words each. There is no way that I can fit even a fraction of the knowledge, growth, or first-hand experience that has come from this fellowship into one of those answers. But, in sitting there and trying to do so, I found myself thinking about how different next year will look at this time. I won’t be moving from job to job, home to home, country to country every couple of weeks. I will build a sense of stability, security, and routine. And, while a lot of times I have felt like I long for this, I also feel a bit of dread over a return to the “same old”.
I have to remind myself that I will not be the same person returning to the US who left six months ago. Thus, I can bring some of the qualities, traits, and perspectives that I have developed and adopted during this time away into my life back home. I can continue to explore, look at my surroundings with curiosity and eagerness, and push myself to try new things. I can try to go with the flow more, give myself more grace, and offer myself praise for accomplishments major and minor. I can maintain healthy self-care practices and set solid work-life boundaries.
As I think about what I want to do and who I want to be when I return to the US, I also think about the things that I am trying really hard to do for my remaining time as a current Watson Fellow.
I want to…
Be intentional with my time, my choices, and my attitude
Be optimistic and remember the good
Be adventurous, set out to try new things, and make time and space for play
Be honest and open
Allow myself to rest when I need it and not feel bad for not completing to-do lists or “being productive”
Allow myself to change plans when my priorities change, new opportunities arise, or things aren’t working out
Reflect more, deeply, and thoughtfully
Push myself to say “yes” and allow myself to say “no”
Accept help
Seek feedback
Get out of my head, out of my comfort zone, and don’t let self-consciousness or embarrassment stop me from living my life to the fullest
If you want to stay up to date on my blog, consider subscribing to be notified when I post!
Yorumlar