I’m feeling homesick… thinking about my family, about all that is familiar…
If I was home in NY I’d be enjoying the last days of summer. One more campfire. Another kayaking adventure on the lake with my niece. Maybe a drive out to Barcelona or Presque Isle. A movie night with Dad. Fireflies. Standing out in the side yards in the circle of trees under the full moon. Sitting in my sister’s kitchen talking with her in the late hours of the night. Walking along the lake at sunset.
After a week+ immersion in my two different Ugandan ‘families’, Girl Up and the family where I’m staying, I have a longing for family that knows me.
I’m desiring a break from all that is different, from being white in the midst of all black and from being considered so different.
I desire some real privacy, meals on my own, coming and going with ease without needing to alert them that I’m leaving/arriving and requiring the gate be opened, knowing where I’m going and how to get there, driving my car, cooking my own meals, fresh salads, arugula, romaine lettuce, coconut bliss ice cream, a warm shower, paved roads without potholes, quiet… and even, I can’t even believe I’m saying this, washing dishes. They won’t let me wash dishes here!
I wonder what I am doing here. I came here following a calling and when I’m spending my days in the office of Girl Up and interviewing girls in the program or helping out with a writing project or training questionnaire or providing feedback on how to handle this or that, I feel deployed; like yes, this is one of the reasons I am here; to offer my support in service to a higher cause. I hear these girls’ stories and know that there is so much more to their story that I am not yet privy to as I’m a mzungu, a stranger, someone who might be perceived as someone who couldn’t understand what their journey has been like.
I desire to hear more of the story and yet, why? What is this desire for stories? What am I aware of here? How might hearing and sharing more of their stories serve this higher cause?
And what am I seeking here? A calling summons us… a calling beckons us, demands us, to listen, to surrender, to open to receiving all that is. There is the belief that a calling will guide us more to our purpose, our reason for being here. What if there is no such thing as purpose? What do I know about this trip, this adventure? What does the Universe know? What does the Universe have in store for me? How much of this is about choosing and actively creating and how much is about surrendering and opening to trusting the unfolding mystery?
What if I wasn’t trying to figure anything out? What if there isn’t any right or wrong way to experience this place, these people, this choice to spend time here? What if there isn’t anything else that I’m missing out on by being here in this place at this time with this family in this way? What if right now it’s not about going out to see a place but rather, dropping in deeply to the families and team I’m being invited to play in and discovering what is here to discover? What if it’s like the experience I had on safari… what if it’s not about going out to meet a sound or sight but what if it’s about opening up more fully to receive it into where I am?
I’m not sure who I’m writing for… me, you, my future me, others… when I just write for me there is a different raw energy of just being free. Uninhibited, not trying to show anything or tie it all together in a package, just my free flowing stream of consciousness. Perhaps that is the writing that is most desired right now. At least it is for me. It takes this blog out of being something to do and instead, something to just share… as I write, I release, I discover, I open to receiving my own experience in other ways; and in the sharing and being witnessed there is yet another way that my experience – that I – am received, that nourishes me.
So I will keep writing and keep sharing as it’s one of the best ways I know how to receive me.