I hate bugs.
Yep, I really, really hate bugs. And getting my hands dirty. And bugs. However, I encountered both last week for the sake of America's highways and learned a valuable lesson. Did I mention I despise bugs? Ewwww!
Let me explain.
One major goal in moving back to Iowa was to be more community-oriented. Fortunately, that is easy to accomplish in my hometown. The transformation in recent years to restore the vintage charm of my Mayberry-ish surroundings is an inspiration. As a result, there are numerous organizations set on preserving the area, one being the HCI Care Services of Southern Iowa, formerly known as Hospice of Central Iowa.
As a last-minute request by my best friend's mom, lovingly known as Mama K, I joined this group of dedicated volunteers and staffers to pick up trash along the tick-filled ditches of US HWY 2 as part of the Adopt-A-Highway program.
Funny enough, my crazy imagination started weaving stories with each step. While I hated every minute my rubber gloved-hand touched the filthy remnants of Ringgold County residents and visitors, I also started to wonder about the "throwers."
Dirty diaper - was the thrower a single mom trying to get to work before dropping off her baby with a kind-hearted neighbor for the day? Casey's pizza container and Mountain Dew bottle - a quick lunch for the traveling salesman just trying to keep food on the table for his family back home? While I by no means encourage people throwing out their trash (especially after this experience!) I realized I shouldn't be so quick to judge, especially as I myself battle with each move serving as a direct reflection of who I am.
After eight years in Chicago as one of a million, I've returned to an area where I'm still remembered as the short Asian farm girl with long pigtails, homecoming queen from a million years ago and/or hometown globetrotter. While these are all part of who I am, I'm now being faced with recreating an image as a 30 year old woman who moved back to her roots... while being drilled every 30 seconds on why I moved back, when I returned and what I am doing... all questions I continue to ask myself on a regular basis. Fortunately, I have the most amazing friends and family in the area, which reminds me why there is no place like home.
So much like the ticks I found clinging to me after this former prissy city girl crawled in the ditches of Americana (still shuddering!), I realized that each step you take may result in something attaching itself to you. Either I can be negative and think about the disgusting bugs or I cam consider the "takeaway" to be the memory of helping a worthwhile cause do something positive for its community.
"Time it is a'TICKin' -- make sure you stop making rash judgements and put yourself in others' shoes before forming an opinion, and remember that the people and experiences you surround yourself with are a direct reflection of who you are. Ask yourself: do you like what you see in this reflection?
...and most importantly, please don't litter! I really, really hate bugs...
