So it seems I left for Poland a month and a half ago and yet I have neglected to write until this moment. The truth is I have wanted to sit down and start writing several times due to the big changes I’ve gone through but it seemed all the words were just swirling around in my head with no clear direction. Perhaps it’s a side effect of having Polish fill my ears throughout my contemplative walks. Time here seems to both stand still and move at the speed of light. Moments collect into hours, days, weeks and soon enough over a month has passed. Living here is not exactly a piece of cake. Starting over is a refreshment and a great blessing but it’s also a lot of work. I find myself holding into the little moments and forgetting about any expectations I had for my life; both in Poland and as a whole. I hold onto that little smile people give me when I horribly attempt Polish. Or the moment there was a dog that looked soooo desperately in need of pets (basically just meaning I was soooo desperately in need of petting a dog) that I Google Translated, “Can I pet your dog?” into Polish. I miss that dog, I hope he’s doing well. I also can barely control myself around all the little Polish babies there are and I still can’t decide if there are actually more babies in Poland or if I just notice babies more because baby deprived from leaving my job as a nanny.

I love all these little moments and I cherish them when the days seem long and I second guess what the hell I am doing with my life. It just amazes me how weird little steps brought me to this town in the middle of Poland. I remember daydreaming in high school classes about a one-way ticket out of America. To somewhere that would puzzle people. I guess that’s the funnest part about moving to Poland. It puzzles people, including myself. My students often ask “Why Poland?” and I still kinda mull that question over in my head every single day. Maybe I should just revert to speaking only in cliches and say “𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓟𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓟𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓶𝓮…” I guess I just don’t think too hard about it because it just simply feels right right now. I can recall my very first day in Poland and how I tried sleeping in as long as possible to temporarily avoid having to go outside and be forced to admit to myself if I had made the correct decision or not. I woke up and still continued to spend more time in my apartment because it was the known, “safety zone”. I unpacked my suitcase and began rationing the little airplane food I had left. Finally I had to face the fact that I would need to step out of my apartment to get food as well as collect my bearings. It was kind of an eerie feeling to step out the front door knowing I didn’t really know anyone in the whole city. I remember passing lots of people on the sidewalk walking their dogs or pushing baby strollers. I kept giving people the smile American people give to strangers they pass on the street just because it’s what I’m so accustomed to. Since learning that this is a thing only absolute lunatics do to strangers it’s been a bit of a nice change to not have to smile at every person I see and I can instead just be with my thoughts. I remember seeing pigeons again, which do not exist in my hometown, and it made me happy because it gave me the familiarity of what Italy was like. I remember browsing the grocery store and not finding butter or salt, but finding several shelves filled with an assortment of dozens of different types of vodka. It was quite impressive and made me feel ignorant for just thinking “vodka is vodka, right? They’re all basically the same, right?”. I’m just quite fascinated by how the world, cultures and people develop so differently but at the same time very similarly. I guess that’s the true reason why I travel. The true reason I let myself be carried away to Poland with a one way ticket. I am very aware of how ignorant I am and with that awareness I feel responsible to change it. Bit by bit. Slowly and steadily.

One of the side effects of being in a foreign place with few people I know and a lot of confusion is that my faith in Jesus becomes a lot stronger. Even within the walls of a catholic church when the entirety of the service is in Polish and I don’t even fully understand the rituals involved in catholic mass. Life is complicated right now but it doesn’t really feel too complicated with all the blessings I have received, both big and small. I received my first paycheck last week and was so thankful for that. I prayed and know it’s the exact amount of money God wants me to have right now. I still laugh about how broke I am since moving to a foreign country isn’t exactly a cheap endeavor. I realized that praying for more money would be an insult to the comfortable, blessed, rewarding life I live here. I have absolutely everything I need at the moment and I realized that any changes to my financial situation would be more valuable if they came from my heart, rather than my bank account. I prayed to God, “Please do not give me anything more, instead strengthen my soul to adapt to the challenges I will be faced with”. In church I can clearly remember a sermon that was preached about the danger of “just a little more” and how important inner contentment is. It’s so, so easy to receive the money God has blessed you with through work and think, “this is great, but just a tiny bit more would be amazing”. When we receive that tiny bit more we repeat the same prayer asking for even more. I’ve grown fond of the challenge of being broke. There’s a contentment of knowing I have the exact amount that God wants me to have at the moment. I can still dream for a future that is perhaps more prosperous, yet this time feels entirely prosperous when looking at it from the inside-out.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.

Philippians 4:12-13 NIV

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