Finding Refuge

In January, while writing down New Year's resolutions to determine what I wanted to do for the upcoming year, a picture floated into my head of Syrian refugees traversing across oceans, struggling to make it to safer shores.

Now, my brain often gets squirrelly like this, so I pushed the image out.  Surely what I really wanted to do this year WAS NOT traverse across treacherous oceans with Syrian refugees.  So I wrote down other things, like lose weight.  Now THAT's a goal I can write down in January and neglect by February.

But the image returned.  And with it came the belief that I should help out refugees. That's right, my brain told me that I should make it a goal and write it down.  Seriously.  And so I did what I generally do when my brain proposes ridiculous ideas.  I disagreed with it.

Oh silly brain!  How inconstant and unfaithful you are. How willing you are to go off topic and get me in trouble. Now let's talk financial goals.

But the brain persisted, and at this moment the heart chipped in as well, telling me not to judge my brain so quickly.  My heart's role in disputes like this is to support brain's most outlandish ideas. It tries to remind me of times past when it was precisely the crazy idea that ended up being fruitful.  Like when I was 32 and single and my brain told me to ignore the attention of several hot girls, so that God and the universe could provide me the girl I really wanted to meet.  Ignore attention from girls?  That was not my modus operandi at all.  How ridiculous.  But the brain teamed up with my heart and won out.  I followed the advice, and I met my future wife the very next week.

Good point, Heart! That's a great story.  But you'll also remember that in 2010, Brain told me to sell copiers for a living.  See how well THAT year of life worked out for me?

Heart stopped.  I mean, metaphorically, that'd be bad news if it were literal.  So I went back to listing out more boring, practical resolutions.  I wrote down a few, but I was bothered with the silent treatment my companions were giving me. In frustration, I finally put down my pen, and announced a compromise.

Alright, if I am going to help Syrian refugees in any way, than I am going to need opportunities to do so.  So life is going to have to send it my way.

That's a compromise I use a lot.  I call it, "send it out to the universe."  If I am uncertain how to proceed with life, but I would like something to happen, I often do what I can, as much as I can, and then see how the universe responds.  It isn't fatalistic, which in my view, means just sitting on your hands and letting the world pass you by. It is different from that.  It means that I do everything I can and simply see what doors open.

I wrote down the resolution.  It looked silly on the paper.  But that's one way of sending it out to the universe, isn't it?  And then I looked for chances.

The first came a few months later when my boss asked me to create a test for a pilot program for 10 students in Beirut, Lebanon.  They were refugees.  Syrian refugees.  Whoa.  What were the chances of that happening?

And then came another request.  Would I be interested in helping pilot an English course in Jordan?  The details were hazy, but apparently there are these large refugee camps on the border of Jordan and Syria, and for whatever crazy reason, Arizona State University led a coalition to see what kind of online educational offerings we might provide them.  When they returned, there was one clear request: Syrian refugees wanted English.

English, for many of the refugees, is access.  Access to information, access to education, and even access to other countries.  If their English is good enough, the thinking goes, they will be more able to get jobs in European or other host countries that might accept them.  English is a ticket.

Oh, I teach English.  I can do that.  In fact, I am quite qualified for the task. Wait a second, am I helping Syrian refugees?  I can't believe it.  I sent it out to the universe, and the universe responded.

I leave for Jordan this Sunday and couldn't be more excited and more at peace with my decision, except for maybe one thing.

Brain and Heart haven't stopped gloating.