Adventure in the love vs. need of money

Huntington offered me a great big pile of peace financially speaking. My loans being my heaviest financial burden, which could be easily repaid. I tell you what, it’s not that easy away from Huntington. My rent is about three times the value of my monthly loan payments, which I have not made in months. Were I in Huntington making what I am making now I’d be living quite the cozy life. At present, however, I’m living paycheck to paycheck, and that’s barely doing the trick.

So my American brain says, “find more job. find more money,” which is, first of all, illogical. Hey brain, let’s think. Why not spend less money? Granted I’d be in about the same spot.

It always brings me back to this same spot though. Teaching English overseas. East Asia is more willing to pay people healthsome amounts of dollars, or yen really, to teach professionals, students or just about anyone how to speak English. Which, great news! I speak that! I studied that. I’m an Englishing machine, but then I come to a point of financial and spiritual responsibility. Do I jump on the nearly $50,000 I could be making and banking for some physical and financial comfort at the risk of abandoning everything I know and love? Do I sacrifice and take the hit to do what I know I can for no money a la the mission field?

My brain reasons the latter to be irresponsible. It says asking other people to foot my bills when I’m fully capable is shady, especially when my bills are stacking up, and totally invading my baking space. Is it more responsible to make the money and pay things off hastily? What is responsibility? What is it that really draws me to the idea of teaching overseas?

In part, I’m sure it’s fear. If I run then I can’t be held responsible for things back here. If I leave there’s no one to keep me accountable, but then logic sets in again. And that fear of responsibility is overcome by the fear of no responsibility. If I run from something I know is safe, if not easy, then I’m on my own.

Moving has been a challenge, and it’s a challenge because I’m not really gone. I’m an hour and a half away from anyone I’d need. I reason with myself that it might actually be easier to move away if it were impossible to come back. But it’s not impossible. In fact, it’s impossible to stay away because I had finally found a community. And now, blergh city. So do I take the leap and run? Or do I suck it up and stay?

Then raises the question, am I mentally and emotionally stable enough for either? Answer no.

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