We leave tomorrow. My heart is so full of the places and
people I am bringing with me. Flew to Philadelphia yesterday. Landed at an
airport I didn’t know with no one to meet me. How long since I’ve done that? As
always, I began talking to strangers, sharing laughter and information.
Arrived at the hotel, which is swarming with Peace Corps
folks. I’m no longer the only one with this crazy dream. Feels good, though it’s
less than flattering to ask young folk, “Peace Corps?” and have them reply,
sometimes shyly, “Yes.” “Me, too.” I say and hear what now seems to be the
inevitable, “Really?!??” Then – “Cool”. A wake up call, for sure.
Each step towards Swaziland has untied another part of what
I realize has become my – identity? security? not sure what the word is. I
began by sorting through my things – a several month process. What to take?
What to store? What to give away or sell? Winnowing, winnowing, without appreciable
progress for a long time. Then things began to disappear: sold, in storage,
given away. Next I moved out, gave up my rental – no more home. Ended phone
service – another connection severed. Last, I sold my car – no more
transportation. Then Sueji drove me to the airport and I left home. It’s not as
though I can’t go back, find a place to live, replace the phone, the car. It’s
that for now, I don’t have things that have been a part of my life for a very
long time. I’d love to say I feel really free, but the truth is I don’t know
what I feel, except that this path, this journey, is right.
And – all the things that will no longer be in my life will
make room for things I can’t yet visualize or begin to comprehend. It’s
humbling, for sure.
So, Farewell until I get a chance to write from 10,000+
miles from Orygun. Can’t wait to see what comes next.
You are on your way. Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteIt is a strange feeling to let go of "things" that have been with you. I can share what that has done for me in the past, though it was not voluntary.
In a previous life, I had moved from Utah to Washington D.C. and placed all of my belongings (furniture, books, photos) in storage until I decided where I would live and what I was willing to pay to bring with me. Four months later I was contacted by police to find out everything was stolen from my storage unit. The way they found me was because a trunk fell off the truck as it sped down a highway. That trunk held memories--photos, yearbooks, copies of published short stories.
At first, I felt bereft of the "things" I had lost--a favored piece of at, a comfortable chair. But as the year played out and I replaced them with other things, I realized I didn't miss them as much as I thought I would. There were a few things I sometimes went looking for that I remembered using all the time--a cooking implement or a storage jar--and would stop for a minute and think: "Oh, that was lost in the theft."
You are open now to learn how different things are used, to adapt more fully to a new environment and culture. Like the theft forced me to make different choices in the things I used, this experience will do the same. Also consider that you may find more similarities in the "things" people use than you can imagine as well. Both differences and similarities will inform your new experiences.
Lots of hugs and love going your way.