written June 4th, 2 am
I can't sleep. It is so incredibly hot in Bhuj that the deep bodied relaxation of sleep simply never comes. My neighborhood, though, is quiet, and it's the first time all year that I've experienced this phenomenon. Only the cows are out in the streets, though I can't tell if they too are still awake, of it they stand in their sleep - restless and bored, or - like me, they are enjoying for the first time real peace in our colony.
This is also my first time alone in weeks. Since the summer descended on our peaceful routines and rituals, I've been sleeping outside on the roof - which has, no doubt, been a true highlight in my experience here - but which also has meant less time alone at the end of the days. My processing the idea of leaving, therefore, has really been more collective, and inspired by all those around me, who, in the last weeks, I've realized, know me better than any other group of people to date. And it hasn't just been my foreign friends here, it's also been my co-workers, my Indian neighbors, and ever their nosy children who sneak their way into my room while I'm naked in the bathroom.
I remember writing in the middle of the night at the house on the hill when I couldn't sleep, the night before leaving for India. And I remember feeling distinctly alone in approaching the transition to my life here. I felt that my family, the friends I still kept in close touch with, and the people in my life at that odd point of transition, couldn't understand me emotionally - didn't really understand what I was searching for, or what I needed, and especially why I thought I could gain some clarity by going to India. and even I didn't understand any of those ideas and needs. I had a vague notion, I suppose, but was frequently unsure and insecure. I second guessed those notions all through my travels until I found myself on that plane to India, flying through the night, illuminated by a full moon. Feeling alone and isolated was something that almost became comfortable, and even was a medium through which I operated in wanting to "find myself again," or find direction, in whatever sense it could be provided. And this romantic notion of the individual quest was so ingrained in what I expected to find here (thank you, Eat Pray Love), that upon leaving, I find this pursuit to be almost laughable! There is really no alone time here, and even when you think you are alone, someone peeks through your window to ask what you're cooking.
In these last eight or nine months, I recognize, acknowledge, and pay homage both to everyone who has been so deeply involved in my journey, and to the relationships I've formed, created and delved so deeply into while being in India. In the last few weeks, and especially in the last few days, I've felt so incredibly supported and loved by all these people in my life. Even those who have played a small role, event hose who were at first skeptical or even resistant to my presence here have become part of this collage of people and faces that shape not only my daily reality here, but also shape what will be my reflections and recollections of my time here.
I can't thank them enough and literally do not have the words to express to them how much their questions, their stories, and small bits of their lives have added to my own story, my own words and thoughts, and even - my future. I fear and know that many of them will not recognize this, and I so often wish I had a way to keep them included in all that is yet to come in my life.
But our time here, together, may has been brief. and sometimes it's difficult to remember that all that I know of these people's lives will change. Daughters will be married, babies will learn to speak, women will succeed in making the changes that are slow and hard, but necessary in transforming this society. Others will pursue new careers, and still some will follow these traditional and even ancient paths so ingrained in their families and communities.
It's hard to imagine the complexity of each person's life ahead, hard to admit and to know that I may, and likely will not be a part of their evolving stories. But it is also beautiful and amazing.
Life moves forward! Living here, (or living anywhere) and living the same daily reality day after day has sometimes allowed me to forget this glorious fact that should be celebrated and lived. All that I've seen and learned, loved and hated, laughed and cried at, is such a small snapshot in such a large and growing picture. How we make sense of that notion, how we connect to the smallness of the present while fully admiring the beautiful and quiet way it merges into something greater - is something I have yet to figure out.
But how great it is to see the world, to see India, to meet and know a family, to eat new foods, sing new songs, speak new languages! And to be in the sacred space of the present as it collides into an unknown future - full of questions and anxieties, but also so surely full of love - as it exists here and now, and will continue to exist in the future, though maybe in some other form - it is an opportunity I cherish.
The experience I've had here and the way it shapes my future yet to come, is dedicated to all these people who have so willingly, so lovingly accepted me, and allowed me to step into their lives and who have helped me to see that not only the world is a vast and changing and large place, but that I myself can and will embody that notion. I, too, contain multitudes.
I can't sleep. It is so incredibly hot in Bhuj that the deep bodied relaxation of sleep simply never comes. My neighborhood, though, is quiet, and it's the first time all year that I've experienced this phenomenon. Only the cows are out in the streets, though I can't tell if they too are still awake, of it they stand in their sleep - restless and bored, or - like me, they are enjoying for the first time real peace in our colony.
This is also my first time alone in weeks. Since the summer descended on our peaceful routines and rituals, I've been sleeping outside on the roof - which has, no doubt, been a true highlight in my experience here - but which also has meant less time alone at the end of the days. My processing the idea of leaving, therefore, has really been more collective, and inspired by all those around me, who, in the last weeks, I've realized, know me better than any other group of people to date. And it hasn't just been my foreign friends here, it's also been my co-workers, my Indian neighbors, and ever their nosy children who sneak their way into my room while I'm naked in the bathroom.
I remember writing in the middle of the night at the house on the hill when I couldn't sleep, the night before leaving for India. And I remember feeling distinctly alone in approaching the transition to my life here. I felt that my family, the friends I still kept in close touch with, and the people in my life at that odd point of transition, couldn't understand me emotionally - didn't really understand what I was searching for, or what I needed, and especially why I thought I could gain some clarity by going to India. and even I didn't understand any of those ideas and needs. I had a vague notion, I suppose, but was frequently unsure and insecure. I second guessed those notions all through my travels until I found myself on that plane to India, flying through the night, illuminated by a full moon. Feeling alone and isolated was something that almost became comfortable, and even was a medium through which I operated in wanting to "find myself again," or find direction, in whatever sense it could be provided. And this romantic notion of the individual quest was so ingrained in what I expected to find here (thank you, Eat Pray Love), that upon leaving, I find this pursuit to be almost laughable! There is really no alone time here, and even when you think you are alone, someone peeks through your window to ask what you're cooking.
In these last eight or nine months, I recognize, acknowledge, and pay homage both to everyone who has been so deeply involved in my journey, and to the relationships I've formed, created and delved so deeply into while being in India. In the last few weeks, and especially in the last few days, I've felt so incredibly supported and loved by all these people in my life. Even those who have played a small role, event hose who were at first skeptical or even resistant to my presence here have become part of this collage of people and faces that shape not only my daily reality here, but also shape what will be my reflections and recollections of my time here.
I can't thank them enough and literally do not have the words to express to them how much their questions, their stories, and small bits of their lives have added to my own story, my own words and thoughts, and even - my future. I fear and know that many of them will not recognize this, and I so often wish I had a way to keep them included in all that is yet to come in my life.
But our time here, together, may has been brief. and sometimes it's difficult to remember that all that I know of these people's lives will change. Daughters will be married, babies will learn to speak, women will succeed in making the changes that are slow and hard, but necessary in transforming this society. Others will pursue new careers, and still some will follow these traditional and even ancient paths so ingrained in their families and communities.
It's hard to imagine the complexity of each person's life ahead, hard to admit and to know that I may, and likely will not be a part of their evolving stories. But it is also beautiful and amazing.
Life moves forward! Living here, (or living anywhere) and living the same daily reality day after day has sometimes allowed me to forget this glorious fact that should be celebrated and lived. All that I've seen and learned, loved and hated, laughed and cried at, is such a small snapshot in such a large and growing picture. How we make sense of that notion, how we connect to the smallness of the present while fully admiring the beautiful and quiet way it merges into something greater - is something I have yet to figure out.
But how great it is to see the world, to see India, to meet and know a family, to eat new foods, sing new songs, speak new languages! And to be in the sacred space of the present as it collides into an unknown future - full of questions and anxieties, but also so surely full of love - as it exists here and now, and will continue to exist in the future, though maybe in some other form - it is an opportunity I cherish.
The experience I've had here and the way it shapes my future yet to come, is dedicated to all these people who have so willingly, so lovingly accepted me, and allowed me to step into their lives and who have helped me to see that not only the world is a vast and changing and large place, but that I myself can and will embody that notion. I, too, contain multitudes.
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