I have been living the sweet life. Every since I quit my job in March, I’ve been able to travel across the country with my boyfriend and dog making stops in Asheville, the French Quarter, SXSW, White Sands, etc. We got settled in LA and decked out our bedroom to actually look suitable for two young adults. We then traveled to Vegas, and then Utah to experience the most beautiful skies either of us has ever laid eyes on. We were completely spoiled with love from friends in Fort Collins. And then we were welcomed home to Boston with even more love from friends and family.

All of that topped with the trip of a lifetime… I spent 4 weeks in the Philippines exploring beauty that I’ve only known through magazine pictures. I indulged on fresh fruit shakes every meal, had a driver take me wherever I wanted, and have barely needed to clean up after myself.

There were so many times I sat there thinking, ‘Traveling is what I’ve always wanted. If only I can work remotely and keep doing this forever.’ I know I’ll never stop having the desire to explore, and unlike many people, I’m fine being away from home for extended periods of time. Being on the road is comfortable. If I can make it work financially, I would travel forever and forget being a nurse. After all, who wouldn’t want to live like a king always exploring new places?

But the more beautiful my surroundings got, and the more I enjoyed them, the more I realized how flawed this world actually is. Despite being in paradise where all seemed perfect in the world, my moments of idleness always brought my mind back to how imperfect these perfect moments truly are. While I sipped on fresh buko and took pictures of bancas, kids were roaming the beach trying to meet a quota of necklace sales. While visitors to their land were in the water taking pictures on the perfect sandbar, these kids were walking along the beach hustling to sell another necklace. They didn’t swim. They didn’t enjoy fresh buko. They just watched everyone else. Heck, they probably just wanted to be able to return home. And then after our most costly night where we splurged close to $200 purely on our own entertainment, we walked outside the karaoke bar and were surrounded by children begging for money. Even though we had desires to help, we couldn’t provide anything because they were actually part of a crime syndicate. This is their life. This is reality.

Reality is that we (which likely includes you) have more potential that those kids simply because of the family we were born into. We can pursue careers and strive for goals that are unthinkable for those kids. They may have a purpose within their community, but to be completely frank, you or I can change the world while they are struggling to exist in this world. We’re just lucky.

It’s completely unfair. I’ve learned ever since I was young and constantly throughout my profession that life is unfair. And as a result, I’ve become pretty good at remaining guarded. I stay detached from those in helpless situations as much as possible. I constantly tell myself “You can’t help everyone” or I find a way to distract the emotions that eat me up. So my experiences on these paradise beaches are no different. I shut out reality. Tell myself “You can’t help everyone” and then distract with more fruit shakes. Stay guarded. Don’t connect.

But that’s not the person I want to be. This is the person I became as a defense mechanism to prevent myself from getting hurt by situations that I have no control over. I’m a huge control freak and I know it.

This is a trait I’m definitely not proud of. In fact, my proudest moments and the moments that have had the most profound impact on me are times where I was completely vulnerable, unable to change the outcome. Moments caring for a terminally woman who was about to enter hospice care- listening to her stories, looking at her pictures, performing ADLs for her, listening to her desires to attend her daughter’s wedding, and providing comfort when we all knew she wouldn’t be able to. Or moments with a wife who just witnessed her husband code while we were trying to bathe him. And then standing helplessly as a swarm of doctors and nurses rushed into the room to try and keep him alive.

I had absolutely zero control in what would happen to those people. Absolutely no control in whether they would live or die. The only thing I could control was whether I’d be a d*ck and ignore/run from the situation, or be human and act with kindness. Thankfully, I chose the latter. I came home after and I cried. I remember being an emotional wreck, but now I look back and I can be happy with myself. At least I can say that.

I never processed my emotions while in the Philippines. It was too easy to remain self centered. Every once in awhile I would think of those kids on the beach, but a second later I would shove the memory back into the back of my mind. But by crazy chance as we were stuck in traffic during the last few hours of our trip in Manila, I came across Angelina Jolie’s acceptance speech of The Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 2013. She mentions her mother making it very clear at a young age that “nothing would mean anything if (she) didn’t live a life of use to others.” She continues her speech saying:

I came into this business young and worried about my own experiences and my own pain and it was only when I began to travel and look and live beyond my home, that I understand my responsibility to others.

And when I met survivors of war and famine and rape, I learned what life is like for most people in this world and how fortunate I was to have food to eat, a roof over my head, a safe place to live and the joy of having my family safe and healthy. And I realized how sheltered I have been. And I was determined never to be that way again. We are all, everyone in this room so fortunate.

I have never understood why some people are lucky enough to be born with the chance that I had, to have this path in life and why across the world, there is a woman just like me, with the same abilities and the same desires, same work ethic and love for her family, who would most likely make better films and better speeches. Only she sits in a refugee camp, and she has no voice. She worries about what her children will eat, how to keep them safe, and if they’ll ever be allowed to return home. I don’t know why this is my life and that’s hers. I don’t understand that but I will do as my mother asked, and I will do the best I can with this life, to be of use.

I’m not exactly sure how I intend “to be of use”, but I know that my actions in the Philippines (or lack thereof) were definitely not of use. Yes, I couldn’t change the situation for those kids. But I had the possibility to give them a day that they would probably be grateful for for the rest of their lives. I could have gotten them a shake. I could of bought all the necklaces and given them a day off. I could have given them the chance to swim and enjoy their own backyard. I could have shown them kindness.

I can say that I’m a nurse and I help people on a daily basis, but that’s just an excuse. I want to be proud of myself as a person, not just proud of the profession I chose. I don’t need to be across the world to be of use. The little everyday actions that no one notices are the ones that matter.

PJ asked Corey and I what we learned on this trip while we were in Manila. I told him I learned that I would miss being a nurse, but that’s not really true. I think I said it out of guilt for my ignorance and inaction. I don’t miss being a nurse as much as I missed helping/connecting with others. And I don’t mean striking up conversations with strangers at the hostel, I mean giving attention to people that society turns away from. The misunderstood troubled/traumatized teen, the explosive school aged boy, the dying old lady, the impoverished children trying to sell necklaces on the beach. I missed living in reality.

There are different ways to be of use. Some say that it’s pointless and won’t change anything, but I still remember the people who connected with me when I was just the kid of the lady with Stage 4 cancer. They had no control over the prognosis and it would’ve been way easier to stay disconnected but they didn’t. They knew me by name, knew my interests and goals. They took the time to treat me like a human. They didn’t go out of their way to do anything lavish, just talk and maybe give a hug. My mom and I still think of them. We’re still grateful for their kindness. And I only dreamed of becoming a nurse because of them. The simple connection they built with me has impacted the remainder of my life, those I love, and the generations to come.

So what did I learn in the Philippines? Being of use, just by basic kindness, is the most important thing I should strive for every day, even if this means letting my guard down, even if I have no control over the outcome, even if it’s “pointless” and I can’t help everyone.