The end is near - again

I consider myself to be a generally upbeat guy. So when I say I'm surprised to find myself in such a state of giddiness this evening, I'm not trying to give the impression I'm usually mired in the gray blahs. But it's cold outside; my dry, cracked hands seem impervious to moisturizer; I haven't run since Monday; and I had to vacate my "home" this evening to accommodate a late meeting. I shouldn't be in a pleasant mood.

I did have an evening of peace after all, however. I started reading "My Antonia," which I already love. And I'm treating myself to a day in the city (Rapid City, that is) tomorrow.

Mostly though, my thoughts are on the future. The near future, to be precise. I have two grad school choices. Money could be the factor that chooses the school for me; otherwise, I see the good in both programs and their respective locations. I'm not sure I have a preference at this point.

My summer plans and how long I remain here in Mission hinge on this decision. I'd like to make a trip back to Delaware to see my family and pickup some boxes I shipped to them prior to leaving Alaska. I also want to make the long haul up to Juneau for a visit. And, oh yeah, I have to pack up the car and move. Again.

I'm thankful my thoughts tonight turned toward what may be found around the proverbial bend in the road as opposed to worrying about what I'm about to leave behind here in Mission. It's a distinct shift to positive thinking from my anxiety as of late.

What will happen to Habitat after I leave? Is it really time to start all over again, again? What about the relationships I've made here? Am I even ready to go?

These questions are tempered by some cold facts. As evinced by tonight's events, for example, I really, really want a place of my own again. Sure, I can joke about how I'm Mr. Adaptability (and you better believe I am!), but it's time to make a home again.

I haven't talked much on here lately about Habitat. But the organization is hurting right now. I've pushed the boundaries of what it means to be a VISTA, and it still isn't enough. And it won't ever be enough as long as it feels as though it's me against the world.

Good things are still happening though. The Habitat year in review I wrote for the Tribune was published in last week's edition. It turned out really well. And I received a phone call yesterday notifying me of a successful grant application. It was funded for the full amount requested, in fact.

I have four, maybe six, more months here in Mission. From the start, I've considered myself more an employee of Habitat than a VISTA. Maybe that's where these mixed emotions are coming from. VISTA assignments have both a start and an end date; I'd conveniently blotted out the latter. And it's starting to really hit me that this really wasn't an open-ended commitment.

I don't know what my remaining time on the rez will bring. It will certainly look much different than what has already transpired. A lot is still up in the air. It's exciting on one hand; on the other, I've seen some foreshadowing of what may be in store, at least as far as Habitat is concerned.

What I've told people in e-mails and phone calls (which both allow for more candidness than this medium) is my time here seems to get crazier and more challenging by the day. But I still wouldn't change a single thing about this experience. I guess that says something, right?