Gratitude

I was tired and homesick. My stomach hurt. I was nearly in tears over my failing ability to translate Spanish and I was put out by my brown surroundings. I was cold in the desert where whoever built my house didn't think that heat was necessary. I really wanted to talk to my dad, but with the inconvenience of time zones, it would require waking him. I was nearly at the edge of what I could handle, blind to the light at the end of the tunnel. In that moment, I remembered sitting in the shade of trees at an outdoor cafe with the Guatemala YAVs discussing gratitude as a spiritual discipline.

I reached back and began to quietly call into focus all the things, in the midst of my long and challenging transition, for which I am grateful. I had allowed myself to fall so far into despair over the difficulties on my path that at first it was difficult to recall my many blessings. I started small with things like my blanket and my wool socks, eventually beginning to tear up at the thought of my wonderful parents and my excellent education that I often take for granted.

That day I decided that in the midst of the difficulty I was going to intentionally take time to be grateful each day. The transformation was astonishing. I recovered my inner peace and stability even in the most difficult situations. I found the strength and patience to confront several of the biggest set backs I have encountered here. That day marks the turning point in my transition to Tucson. Not too many months later, I now feel at home in Tucson and in my community. There may always be rocks in the path, but calling out gratitude, I have found the strength to push forward on the trail.