And so it begins

Welcome! My life is full of new adventures right now, and this blog is certainly one of them. I have never kept one of these and, frankly, never had a strong desire to try. Never the less, when you do things like move to Albania for two years, a few people insist that you do so. So here it is. I make no guarantees on how often I'll update or what content I will include. Those things will probably vary along the way. All that I promise today is that I won't forget about this and will give a true effort to make it a reasonable record of my time overseas. As for today...

It is hard to describe the feelings that I am experiencing while on the cusp of what will most likely be the great adventure of my life. The fact that I'll actually be in Albania at this time next week is almost more than I can comprehend. Part of me is scared. It is not so much a fear for my personal well-being as it is a fear that I might fail to take full advantage of the opportunities that will be presenting themselves to me over the next two years.

Sitting here, in America, I can scarcely imagine the people that I will be meeting, the places I will be visiting (and living in!), and the work that I will be doing while over there. It is foolish to live with an eye on the possibility of future regrets, but it is only too easy do so right now. I have a bad tendency to look back on the people and events from my past and think, "if only I was the person then that I am now, I could have done things so much better." In some ways, I am doing that for Matthew, version 2012, today. I am not world traveler (no really. Aside from a one hour border crossing into Mexico when I was five, I've never set foot on foreign soil). I don't know how to work effectively in Albania. I don't speak the language. I don't know the customs. I am sure that there will be plenty of opportunities to look back on things at the end and think, "if only..."

But then, that's stupid. Half, or most, of the beauty of an adventure like this comes from the process of learning itself. I must laugh at myself when I try to buy a stamp and instead ask for a hen (pula... pulla... eh, nevermind), to value the experiences that teach me how I should and shouldn't go about my work, and to relish that piece of the unknown that comes along with any good adventure. I may not do everything perfectly, but if I hold true to those ideas, I'll probably emerge on the other side as something similar to the person that part of me wishes I could be today. And I guess that's the whole point of life.

So cheers! Thanks for coming along for the ride. See you in Albania.