Lost and Found

Today's adventure consisted of a really long walk through the woods behind Parque Ecuador with Simón. We spent the morning cooking and cleaning. I organized his room and scrubbed the bathroom with a vengeance and copious amounts of Clorox. Simón made breakfast, he's definitely the better cook between the two of us. He actually had to teach me how to make rice the other night because I had no idea how. I've always just followed the instructions on the bag, but those instructions take 45-50 minutes and his rice is done and perfect in 20, so I had to know the secret. 

There's something relaxing, and certainly meditative about walking in the woods. For me, I feel a sense of security. There's a kind of understanding that is felt between two hikers crossing paths. A brief, "Hello" or the fleeting moment of eye contact is charged with unsaid trust and almost camaraderie. For the first time today, I encountered a wooded trail that I was told was unsafe. Not because of natural dangers, like a poisonous plant or threatening jaws or claws. I was told that the trail I wanted to travel was dangerous because people make it dangerous. There are actually people who wait on those trails waiting to jump you for your valuable phone, camera, or even bike. The idea is nauseating and saddening. For the first time in the week that I've been here, I genuinely felt homesick. I longed for the summer sun and long afternoons hiking Mansfield or pioneering new trails with Prince. Home, where I don't even need to lock my car door, because I know nobody is going to try to steal my things.

I have been reading Kite Runner, a novel by Khaled Hosseni. I'm the type of person to mull over a vague piece of wisdom, the type that people post to their Instagram or make their Facebook status when they're sad. I like to think about those phrases and try to apply them to my life in some way. I think most of us try to lead virtuous lives, we try to be good people, and we try to keep the snake in the grass away from our shining personalities. In any case, the passage that I was reading was discussing sin. One of the lead characters was discussing his belief that stealing is the only sin, and the greatest one at that. After some consideration, I agree wholeheartedly. Stealing is stealing, sure, but I hadn't thought of it with the perspective that Hosseni spelled out so clearly. "There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft... When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness." I'm really thankful for the opportunity to be here in Chile. I'm thankful for having the time to read books for fun and to go on long walks with my love. 

I purchased my plane ticket almost three months ago, and I ask myself every single day if I made the right choice. This trip has been a huge investment of time and money, and it certainly was a big risk. I did it even though my mom and grandmother strongly advised against it. Most days, my answer is yes, I made the right choice. Some days, or sometimes just for a few moments I get a feeling of guilt, a feeling that I made a mistake. It creeps under my skin and into my stomach, where it clenches hard until I can choke it down with the reasons I decided to make this trip. Today, I had that creeping feeling. But in the midst of its grasp on my stomach, I pulled it out of my body, out of my head. I let the feeling fall on the forest floor and I crunched it between my sneakers and the pebbles. I know I made the right choice. I chose love, I chose adventure, and I chose opportunity. There is still risk, but nothing worth having is easily obtained. Now I'm sitting next to the gas heater, absorbing the warmth and chasing my cold away with a hot cup of tea. All I can feel is grateful. I'm grateful for the privilege to take this risk, I'm grateful for the hospitality that I have been shown here, I'm grateful for these sunny days. Always looking forward.