On a bus ride home during the beginning of elementary school, I made my first best friend. As I nervously walked down the aisle of the bus, briefly scanning faces for friendliness, I spotted a girl sitting at the back by herself. She had tears in her eyes and was clutching some school papers between tight-gripped fingers.

I slid in the seat beside her, and sat quietly until the rumble of the bus’ engine ignited excitement and conversation with students eager to head home. As I sat silently next to the girl, I could feel the sadness in her heart. I stole a few side glances her way to make sure tears hadn’t started to fall, then I cleared my throat and said, “My name’s Caitlin. I know you’re sad right now, but I don’t know why. Can I help you?”

As her story tumbled out softly, I heard her words, felt her pain, and privately knew we’d be friends for a long time to come. Without her saying the words, my heart knew I was needed. Twenty years later, she still thanks me for that fateful bus ride, when I could see the sadness that no one else stopped to notice.

As I was entering college, a swirl of sadness and substance abuse dominated society and the nightly news. It didn’t take long to feel the pull of my heart; I decided to study Psychology and I threw myself head-first into ten years of serving the mental health population.

Before long, my heart tugged once again. I watched droves of students with discontent hearts and excessive financial stress begin to surface. Students who were outraged at the false dreams they were sold; people who felt “wronged” and “overlooked”. Within a month, I was accepted to graduate school and began working with students to advocate for their needs.

Then, my heart fell silent. It didn’t pull, tug, or push me in any direction. I bobbed along aimlessly, wondering where I should go or where I was needed. When I’d close my eyes and try to find a “sign” to point me in the right direction, my heart would softly whisper, “Just wait and see.”

One day, seemingly out of the blue, I felt my heart flutter again. My heart began tugging, even though I wasn’t ready to admit where it was heading. But after too many deaths and illnesses caused by food in the United States, I knew the call had come once again. I needed to create a healthy community… a place where people could afford food that nourishes the body and soul. That’s when I admitted my dreams of becoming a farmer to start my own organic farm, community, and outreach program.

Some may say I have a gypsy heart or travelling soul. But my soul isn’t wandering, it knows its track. And undeniably since childhood, I’ve been pulled to help those in need. With no warning, my heart can sense when someone needs help and my soul refuses to give up until the job is done. I make waves by giving a voice to those who have lost their own.

Some days I just dip my toes lightly in the water, like sitting next to a teary-eyed girl on the bus and encouraging her to ease her sadness by sharing it with a new friend. Some days I make ripples by encouraging young souls to find themselves, form a voice, and stand up for what’s right, academically and socially. Some days I make big splashes by celebrating a client’s stability and sobriety after countless middle-of-the-night emergencies and terrifying relapses.

And other days, I make waves. I challenge the status quo in our country, where food illness is a daily occurrence and hospital bills are racking up. I encourage and educate others about living green and harmoniously within this beautiful world. As I pinch pennies and say no to modern conveniences, I dream of the day I can host free community dinners on my farm, where I can fill people’s bellies and souls with pure goodness.

I’m a voice that refuses to be silenced no matter what barriers stand in the way. I’m a heart that’s dedicated and determined to pave a way for happiness for all. I’m a soul that feels the call of the world, and knows I must go to serve and help in any way possible.

Some may call that aimless or indecisive, I call that making waves.

How do you make waves?

What ripple effects have you seen in your life?

{ This post is an entry for the Make Waves contest, hosted by these wonderful ladies: Jenn of Near + Far Montana, Alicia of Jaybird, Erika of All Things E, and Rachel of Tossing the Script. The Make Waves contest asks you to write about how you make waves in your life and/or sail through stormy seas. }