Where's the Happiness?

It's been two weeks since I accepted the job in Yellowstone National Park.

The first week I was too busy to really think about my decision clearly.

This last week, though, as the reality of my situation has set in, I've been bombarded by a maelstrom of emotions. And though I know I've made a good decision, I've yet to feel the rush of happiness I've expected.

When I first saw the job advertised on the federal USAjobs website, I got a lump in my stomach. I knew this was my job. This job was what I'm good at in a place I love. There was no way I wouldn't get this job. And I was right. I took it without reservation. I didn't even ask anyone their opinion about whether I should take it or not - which for me is huge. I'm not good at big decisions. But there was no decision involved - of course I would take it. And I did.

So why, since then, have I been fighting my right to be happy about my decision? It is, after all, the culture of the National Park Service to move from place to place. I'm not doing anything wrong by leaving. I don't think I'm even doing anything unexpected by leaving.

But despite my yearning to escape from Forks and the loneliness I have found here, the truth is, that I will be leaving things of value behind:

This place.
While the Olympic Peninsula may not be the best place for a single girl to expand her social life, it is a great place for an adventurous girl to explore her surroundings. And I didn't do half as much exploring as I would have liked. I did get to the Blue Glacier. I did hike the South Coast. Both amazing experiences. The Press Expedition Route will, I suppose, have to wait.

The ocean, too, has been a pleasure. In a place where the sky does not always seem big enough, visiting the beach brought me space and openness and an endless horizon, complete with beautiful sunsets. My occasional encounters with the harbor seals, an added bonus. No whales yet, though. I've got three weeks left to keep working on that one.

New friends.
Not many, it's true. But good ones, nonetheless. And not just in the park, but also in the Pacific West Region. I really had just started to get to know some really great, fun, warm, talented, and interesting people. They are what kept me going, and I learned and benefited from each and every one of them. The family network that is the NPS, though, will hopefully keep them if not close, then reachable.

A job where I know I can make a difference.

I've learned a lot from this job in the short time I've been here. With the right motivation and energy, I know I could learn a lot more and continue to do good things here. I also know that I could stay for another five years and still not get everything done that needs to be done.

A friend helped put things in perspective for me, though, when she told me (in so many words) that you can do good things for a place that you like, but you can do great things for a place that you love. She told me I owed it to the National Park Service to put myself in a place where I could do the most good. I take my responsibility to the NPS very seriously. And while I like Olympic National Park and have come to feel a great fondness for it, I know deep down that it will never replace the Tetons and Yellowstone in my heart. My position at Yellowstone may not need me as much as my position here does (at least not yet), but I feel in my heart that I will be giving back to a place that has already given me so much.

It gives me hope that I will actually feel like I'm doing good, instead of just feeling like I'm keeping up.

The idea that I can do anything.

This one I've struggled with. I've tried to write about it several times, and just couldn't find the words. It's probably one of the biggest reasons I haven't been able to be outwardly happy about leaving.

I've always thought of myself as a strong person. I've always wanted to be that person who can be a rock - an island unto themselves - weathering the storm, and all the other metaphors that mean you can survive on your own.

Well, apparently, I'm not.

And for the last two weeks I've been dealing with the idea that accepting a new job and leaving here means that I'm accepting defeat, accepting weakness. That I couldn't make it here on my own.

My brother helped me with this one. He simply said, "Don't try to be who you're not."

Simple, huh?

And so now I see that me leaving this place is not me giving up. It's not me being weak. It's me accepting that this place is not what's best for me. It's me going back to a place where I hope I can be myself again.

And I can finally leave here knowing that this place helped me better understand more of who I really am.

My family.
This one is the hardest because I know it's the thing I'm going to miss the most about being here. My brother and his family is the one reason I would consider staying here on the OP.

I've never lived this close to them, and I've never been this involved in their lives. And, tragically, I probably never will again. Having them close, sharing my life with them, having them be part of my comings and goings- these things have been what has kept me going for the last year and a half. They have seen me through some of my darkest days - whether they know it or not.

I have found friends in them that I did not have before. And I have found an unconditional love that I always had but had never realized.

I truly regret that I'm leaving them.

I hope what we've shared while I've been here will be a strong foundation on which we can continue to build our lives with each other, no matter where I go.

And I hope the kids don't forget me. Another thing I'll have to work on....

I will miss all these things.

But now that I've voiced my reservations, I know with certainty that I've done the right thing. Just as I know that coming here to the Olympic Peninsula in the first place was the right thing to do.

It was hard to come here. And it will be hard to leave. So I think it's ok that I'm not "happy" to be leaving.

Because I've learned from it all - professionally and personally - and I know that while Yellowstone too will have its hardships, I'll also find things that will make it all this worth while.

Adventure, new friends, challenge, reward.

And maybe, if I'm lucky, a little happiness, too.