Emptiness and Fullness.
Today I awoke to the sound of children singing. Priscilla was chirping a church song in Lugisu or Luganda and this was a much better wake up call than the rooster. Hopefully someone ate it.
Life in Mbale is becoming less and less novel (but still hilarious at times) as I remain here, it's finally becoming a strange home. I pass friends on the street everytime I'm in town and while I still create a scene by merely existing (but then again I'm used to this to some degree), life is quietly stablizing as we can always count on it to do. My work at TASO is unpredictable, often going to the field for long days then followed by a slow day truly on Ugandan time.
I take this moment to digress about the way time passes here. S L O W L Y. There is no iota of Western urgency that we so commonly refer to as time management. But there is something to be learned from the emptiness of seconds, minutes and hours and of finding fulfillment not in efficiency and productivity but in conversation and connection. This will take me a while to get used to (and I may never completely), but making the most of the day has taken on an entirely new meaning.
Here it's the quiet moments that both embrace and haunt me. And life here, when away from the hustle and bustle of everyday transit through town, has plenty of these moments. Those times with myself, usually in the evening when there is little light, I hear my own voice. Where are you? What are you making of each day? What is it about this place that you fear yet crave? What will all of these experiences mean in a larger sense for your life and others? Will it mean nothing? Will it mean something?
Usually after one of these moments I find a way to exhale. Going for beers and pizza with Will or playing with the kids over tea. Someway my mind usually eases and the pressure subsides. Then I'm back to being just one person, in one place, living at life's pace, intending to do something good. But it's a short journey from emptiness to fullness when life is full of people to light the dark, dark nights.
Life in Mbale is becoming less and less novel (but still hilarious at times) as I remain here, it's finally becoming a strange home. I pass friends on the street everytime I'm in town and while I still create a scene by merely existing (but then again I'm used to this to some degree), life is quietly stablizing as we can always count on it to do. My work at TASO is unpredictable, often going to the field for long days then followed by a slow day truly on Ugandan time.
I take this moment to digress about the way time passes here. S L O W L Y. There is no iota of Western urgency that we so commonly refer to as time management. But there is something to be learned from the emptiness of seconds, minutes and hours and of finding fulfillment not in efficiency and productivity but in conversation and connection. This will take me a while to get used to (and I may never completely), but making the most of the day has taken on an entirely new meaning.
Here it's the quiet moments that both embrace and haunt me. And life here, when away from the hustle and bustle of everyday transit through town, has plenty of these moments. Those times with myself, usually in the evening when there is little light, I hear my own voice. Where are you? What are you making of each day? What is it about this place that you fear yet crave? What will all of these experiences mean in a larger sense for your life and others? Will it mean nothing? Will it mean something?
Usually after one of these moments I find a way to exhale. Going for beers and pizza with Will or playing with the kids over tea. Someway my mind usually eases and the pressure subsides. Then I'm back to being just one person, in one place, living at life's pace, intending to do something good. But it's a short journey from emptiness to fullness when life is full of people to light the dark, dark nights.
posted by Sarah at 11:45 AM
3 Comments:
Thanks for another great post. I appreciate your ability of giving me a true sense of what you're experiencing. If you're mind is anything like mine (and I think it might be), I'd say it's like a dangerous neighborhood: don't go in there alone! I'm glad you're sharing your thoughts.
Tara and I had dinner with your Mom, Dad and Jules the other night and they all seem to be doing well. They miss you, of course!
Take care, stay smart and I'll look forward to your next post.
Love ya,
AJ
Well as much as I envy your travels, I must say that you come by your introspection genetically, and would more than likely be questioning the meaning of it all even if you were still in Sterling Hts. I suppose being alone and quiet for long stretches of time expands and at the same time contracts that inquiry. But I still do it, and I figure I'll know the answers on the day I die.
Talked with Erin yesterday, she's doing okay. Too long to say in this space, but as always, cheerful and optimistic. Things are busy, and I have a cold which is just sitting around deciding whether its going to really do me damage, or just f*ck with me!
Love to you,
P
Sarah, I also understand where you are comming from but I have no idea where you are headed (typed jealously). You are searching the hollowness and YOU WILL find the answers, hopefully not until you are in heaven because for people like you the search is your LIFE. Keep Looking and keep telling us about it.
Love Dad
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