It's Saturday afternoon and I am sitting at my desk at work trying to write a compelling 8-page brochure. It's not going so great at this moment. I'm just wishy-washy and contemplative and I can hardly figure out all that I'm thinking, much less compel anybody on earth to do anything—which is problematic for my work life.
I talked to Leah. She reminded me of what we were doing at this hour one week ago... which was absolutely nothing except sitting on a plane for like, the twentieth hour. I told her I feel like Africa was months ago. How is that? How do I come home from an extraordinary place and feel so far removed? When I think about how simple life in Africa was and how un-simple I make my life... that's part of my lesson from Africa.
I grabbed the book "The True and the Questions" by Sabrina Ward Harrison from my desk (clearly, the books are helping me process...) and I totally get what she's saying:
"I see myself rushing around maintaining and preparing for what will happen next and the worries that go along with it. Getting ready for life—not being in life. It seems we start so young with the routine. If we stop there are so many worries of what could happen. Will I lose the connection? Will I be replaced? Will I be forgotten? It is exhausting—gripping onto too much. I am reminded of May Sarton writing in Journal of Solitude: 'Imitate the trees. Let go. Cut off excess. Prune. Wait. Watch. Grow deep and high to the sea.’"
It actually reminded me of Jeremy and Jennifer and Hutch. I've been thinking about them this afternoon—trying to reenter life here. They've lived so simply and enjoyed it so much. And now they're back to our pace. That's tough. Maybe we're supposed to pray for them... maybe that's why we met them in the first place. But what do I know?
I look forward to seeing you all tomorrow! aj