Getting Into You

A Denmark Shaped Hole in My Heart

So, It just finally hit me today that I am leaving Denmark in less than two weeks.  I am such a mess about it, really.  On December 18, the day I have to leave my new home, I feel certain that someone will have to force me onto the bus, metro, or whatever other form of transportation will take me to the airport.  Thinking about my life without "my Danes", cozy walks through Copenhagen, and all of the sights and sounds that I have become accustomed to makes my heart hurt.  My boss this last summer said something profound to me - She asked me why I thought it was that I liked to move around so much... and at the time, I didn't have an answer.  She suggested that it was perhaps because I want to have wings, and not roots, meaning that I want to experience a lot of things, without pursuing any depth.  At the time, to be candid, I was a little bit offended.  But, I realize now that she was spot-on.  (Actually, as I reluctantly have realized, she was spot on about a lot of things, but I digress).  I have made about 10 times the number of friends in Copenhagen as I have at my home University, have developed those friendships more deeply than hardly any at home, and I finally understand why.  It is because for the first time, possibly ever, I have been unafraid to be myself here.  I'm a mess, and I'm goofy, and I say too much sometimes.  But, I'm me.  And, Copenhagen will forever be inextricably tied to the person I have discovered I am. I have met the most amazing people here, who have, without a doubt, changed me fundamentally as a person.  I have seen the world, not through the eyes of one dreaming, but in reality.  I have gotten so many new perspectives on things... I think that when I land in the US, I will probably have more culture shock than I did when I came to Denmark in the first place.  Sure, I'm excited for a Chipotle burrito and driving my own car, but I would trade it all for a little more time with the people and places I have come to love.  

Calling?

Wow, I haven't blogged in forever.  I have forgotten how therapeutic it can be.  Reading through my old posts, I find it hard to believe what a different place I am in now compared to then.  This summer taught me so much about myself, but as I reflect back upon its impact on me, I still realize how much I have to learn.  I have, recently, been struggling with the idea of calling.  This summer, I waxed and waned between a calling to ministry and a calling to go into medicine.  To tell you the truth, at the end of the summer, I had pretty much convinced myself that a calling into medicine was what I was experiencing.  Now, I have no idea.  I met someone in Denmark who is very much wiser than me, and he and I have been having all sorts of thought provoking and uncomfortable discussions regarding this topic as of late.  I went to Norway last weekend, (which, by the way, was the single best choice I have ever made (yes, I'm serious.  It was that amazing.  You should go...)) Anyway, I was in Norway with this person and he and I got into a conversation about our lives.  At one point he said something to this effect to me: "Look, I don't want to offend you, and maybe you'll think this is a compliment, I'm not sure, but I don't really see you being a doctor." [Cue shock and horror on my face...] and he continued... "I really just, see you being a mom, and being dedicated to your kids.. [cue blank expression/tears welling up in my eyes]... Now, let me tell you, for the past year, I have completely dedicated myself to the idea that I would go to medical school one day, make a life for myself, kiss dating goodbye and be happy ALL of my own accord.  I had convinced myself that I wouldn't have kids, because I had also simultaneously convinced myself that I didn't want a husband, because I would never take the time to get to know one.  I was going to be that independent.  Ha. Well, unfortunately, the things that we project to the world and the things that operate within our minds are never quite the same, or at least in my case they are rarely the same... I have been struggling with this very question/issue for a while.  I don't see how it would be plausible to be a mom and a doctor both - at least not the kind of mom and doctor I want to be.  I had convinced myself that I didn't want kids - but, if you ask anyone that I know, they would probably tell you that having kids is one of the first things they would expect me to do.  And, to tell you the truth, its one of the first things I would expect myself to do.  I feel very anti-feminist saying this, but the truth is, I want to be a mom, and I want to be a good mom on top of it.  And, I just don't see how having a career where I spend 80+ hours a week at the hospital is going to accommodate that.  Getting back to what this person said... I had no real response to it, except to look dumbfounded (cute, right...? not.) and to say, "I don't know". The truth is, not being successful scares the crap out of me.  I often wonder if being a mom will be enough.  I look at the amazing job that my mom did (with very little, oftentimes) and admire her so much.  But is she fulfilled? I don't know.  I don't know if she'd feel differently if she had a career as well.  So, now I'm in the process of figuring crap out.  I have absolutely no idea where all of this is leading me.  Maybe it IS to med school, maybe the peace corps, maybe to youth ministry, maybe something that I can't even imagine.  What I do know is that verbalizing it (and having someone that doesn't even know me that well, thank you very much) pointing it out to me is even scarier.  All I know now is that I had a little chat with God the other night where I told him that where he wanted me to go, I would follow.  Which, is one of the scariest conversations of my life, I will assure you.  So until then, I'm just trying to hang in there and see what comes of it all.