Countryside Clarity

As I curiously watched the leggy insect seemingly take in the scenery perched atop a small boy’s head, I contemplated swatting it off knowing full well I would have no way to explain to the child in Buli why the hell I just struck him.  I decided to leave the bug and the boy alone and turned to half-listen to the other men around who were discussing the upcoming Ghanaian election, “…education needs to be accessible to all…he really is great at capturing the attention of the people…but his policies are not well structured…”  We were all huddled under a small shelter while the deluge pounded complex rhythms on the aluminum roof.  We shared the idea to wait out the storm before heading back home.  Joe and I had taken a trip to a nearby village, Kadema, where he started a sustainable dry season farming initiative.  We had a meeting with the farmers and discussed the plans for the upcoming season.  The journey out to Kadema was stunningly gorgeous with the whipped cream skies and the dirt roads that led us through beautiful tropical trees, open skip-worthy-song-singing fields, and hoards of roaming animals.  I swore off motorcycles after the accident with my adventurous but at times over-zealous pops in The Dominican Republic, but there’s really no way to avoid them here.  I’m actually thankful for that as there couldn’t have been a more perfect way to enjoy the trip than on the back of a moto-bike alternating between closed eyes and hungry ones, taking it all in.  This is my life for now.  I’m so grateful.

Do you remember the last time you felt truly rested; at peace; and in-tune with your mind, body, and spirit?  I don’t remember either, but I’ve arrived to this state and can’t even trace the steps for getting here.  This past week, I found clarity I was searching for, motivation I had left somewhere, creativity I had suffocated, and weightless bliss I hadn’t seen in some time.  My life here has no work stress, personal money stress, holiday stress, boyfriend stress, and no social calendar with every hour reserved until two weeks from Tuesday.  I make my own schedule, sleep solid hours, live in a house alone with no rent, guiltlessly read books for hours on a Friday night, and only do what I want.  And surprisingly, I’ve wanted to do many things that I avoided at home.  I have been eagerly grant researching and writing (for an organization where I know all the beneficiaries personally), I’ve been able to creatively conceptualize and work on new projects, I’ve been able to think clearly and without anxiety about my future plans, and I’ve even excitedly updated my resume!  The thing is, I didn’t even realize how foggy and heavy I felt at home until those things were lifted.  It’s amazing how we function in The States running at 135 miles per hour, balancing 8 loads on our head, with our tanks on E.  Are we actually as productive as our schedules boast?  Are we present enough in all of our forty obligations to make it worth it?  When I was home, even the thought of tackling grad school research brought stones to my stomach and flashing lights of migraines with aura.  We’re so overloaded that any additional task seems like the last pebble that collapses the stacked pile.  We find ourselves plagued with psycho-somatic aches and can’t locate the source of the quivering anxiety deep within us.  We try yoga, meditation, therapy, prayer, etc. sometimes without results.  I mean, heck, I’ve tried all those things, but it wasn’t until I was ripped out of my comfort zone and into a rural African town with no friends and no solid direction that I have found some peace and clarity.  Weird, huh?  I don’t think it needs to be so drastic, but I wonder what it will take for me to find this when I catch myself stuck again in the hamster wheel of Western society.  I know this feathery floating will eventually be grounded by the heavy gravitational pull of reality when planning for my year back as my time here dwindles, so I say all this not to brag, but for posterity—to remind my future self that life rules when you can see straight.  I don’t have an answer for how to bring this energy home, but I do hope that some of it naturally sticks to me.  I hope I can remind myself that life is as simple or as complicated as we make it, and sometimes all it takes is a beautiful drive through the quiet countryside to reset.

I always think it so neat when you can watch the clouds blanket the sky and tuck the sun in before a downpour.

Farmers we are supporting with the G-Roots project

This is not the post I had planned for this week, but I had to share before the moment shifts even in the slightest.  Wishing all you dears some of the peace I'm floating in.

Love from Sandema,
Tippy