I'm sitting outside my hut, on an old
sheet to keep the light colored pants Debbie gave me clean rather
than to appease the Basotho concerns of cold cement causing
hemorrhoids. My feet luxuriate in the soft sand that comprises our
front yard. Most mornings are too hot and too sunny for this,
however, today is gray with just enough humidity to make the
occasional light breeze welcome instead of cold.
I sip my coffee and consider making a
second cup. This time last year, the consideration would have been a
second pot, as the second cup was a given, but now real coffee is a
luxury usually shipped by a generous and loving person back home.
In the distance, I can hear villagers
shrieks of joy-it is New Year's Eve after all. Next door, I hear
Ntate Thamahane conducting village business. Occasionally my quiet
morning is interrupted by a villager walking to the chief's place,
which requires we go through the usual Basotho greetings.
Relishing my bare feet in the sand, I
remember an older man at Three Mile Island last summer telling me he
believes people should have a physical connection to the Earth as
often as possible for health reasons. While this sounds like the
musings of a back to nature person, he was otherwise a very
conservation and professional individual. I remember we discussed the
way sea turtles us the Earth's magnetic force to direct thousand
miles journeys (because I always want to discuss sea turtles) and
that we too should allow our bodies to experience that connection to
the Earth. Now, a year and a half later, I am sitting on the other
wise of the world, fully appreciating that connection.
As New Year's Eve often induces
reflection, I cannot help but wonder at all the paths that led me to
this moment. It seems like every stepping stone has focused on
connection and simplicity, often removing those things that separate
us from such a connection. How many of my jobs have put me in a place
to experience life without the usual trappings of electricity and the
modern world: television, unlimited high-speed internet, regular hot
showers, traditional flush toilets, etc.
In a world filled with reaching towards
the next big thing-be it the newest iPhone, marriage, kids, a
mortgage, or a new car-I find myself stepping away; craving and
pursuing jobs that are lifestyles in simplicity. The immense peace I
feel sitting on the cement, leaning on my dung and mud hut on this
gray day is the same as I captured when at sea, grading handwritten
essays on the deck of a schooner. It is the same as I found sitting
on the deck of my cabin during a summer thunderstorm at Three Mile
Island. It is the same as I enjoyed each early morning walk down to
Nikana Lodge at Camp Pendalouan, looking out at Big Blue Lake's
serene facade in the silence just before camp truly awoke. It is
early mornings and late nights in Charleston, sitting on the Spirit
of South Carolina while looking
out over the harbor and marveling that life brought these moments
over and over again.
Fifteen
years ago, none of these were on my list of dreams. I graduated high
school and started college in pursuit of suits and salaries; the
American dream. Somehow, despite my desire to be unique, I followed
the cliché and found myself during those college years. In doing so,
I realized the reality of a career indoors, of reaching for
promotions, of following the usual path set out by the game of Life
(graduate, job, wedding, house, babies...) unpalatable. Thanks to a
simple daysail on Niagara with my mom and a summer of fitness and
hiking in Maine, I realized there were other options and the only
limiting factor was me.
And
so, I find myself in the perfect place this New Year's Eve morning:
sitting outside, barefoot, with that second cup of coffee. As the hot
summer sun begins to burn its way through the clouds and will soon
chase me inside, I cannot help but look ahead to 2015 with
excitement. It may be the only year of my life spent exclusively
outside of my home country. I doubt it will be filled with only the
serenity I feel in this moment, but I can always return to my happy
place: barefoot, outside, with coffee. And, I will always appreciate
the simplicity of life in a place where my slowest walk is regularly
commented on as too fast.
Special thanks to Mom, Julie P, and Eric G for supporting this moment through gifts of coffee.
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