A few weeks after I accepted my invitation to Lesotho and Peace Corps reenrollment as my future, a friend shared a job opening with me. I thought of you, he said.

In essence, it was my dream job. It was traveling, helping others and story telling. It was based in a city that I love but included domestic and international travel.

It was my dream job, in two years from now.

Today, I met with a former cohort and we discussed the project we used to work on together. We exchanged ideas and possibilities. Passion for the subject matter began to bubble, and I could feel myself getting swept up in it again.

When the conversation ended, I was grounded and reminded that I am part of its past, a block of the foundation. I will watch as it develops, sometimes pondering my role if I wasn’t on a different continent.

With that job and my former project, I could lose myself in work in a backdrop of coffee-induced brainstorm sessions and lunch meetings. My retreating place would be a cozy apartment donned travel photos and fresh aromas. My social circle would thrive and I’d have stability, cozy life.

But, that isn’t what will happen. Instead, I am hopping on a plane in a month to chase this dream that has nagged me for years. Yet, what I’ve slowly realized is that nothing will detour to me. I don’t causally stroll through job sites anymore. I put off thinking about a career. I even look the other way when a cute stranger looks my director. No job, no man, nothing will distract me from this.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now. The other parts can and will come later.

Now, I must get back to my vacation.


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