Musings of life on the road...

The loud clanging of the clock tower next door to us engaged my brain as the first chime prompting me to count.  Seven clangs.  It was time to get up. 

My brain was inspired to bolt out of bed.  My body not so much, the aches and pains of endless humid days gripping my aging joints into stiff denial of their intended purpose.

The light from the bathroom window filtered through the mosquito netting Lisa had stapled to the frame, now fluttering on the edges in the gentle breeze inviting the smallest of biters to enter at will.

Tom slept quietly beside me as I lay on my back looking at another ceiling I had yet to notice until now almost seven weeks later.  At least once, wherever we've lived, I've spent a morning, an evening, observing the ceiling almost in an effort to get my bearings. 

Where am I?  Is this really me?  Is this the person of ritual, of routine always striving to make a concerted effort to be reliable, dependable...a "you-can-bank-on" person, one could always count on?

Where are the people I spent a lifetime trying to please?  Not here.  The one with me expects so little and gets so much, gives so much...effortlessly. "They" never asked or expected anything of me.  It was my own doing. I had to leave to stop. It was my own doing.

In part, its a "woman/mother" thing, giving without being asked, doing when doing didn't need to be done, reaching out when the only hand extended was my own.

I miss them.  But I don't miss who I was when I was with "them," the perpetual hunger to please, to be available when I wasn't and near the end, when I couldn't eek out another moment of trying. None of "their" doing.  All my own.
Needing to be free.

Selfish?  No.  Self saving? Yes.   As one would go off on a quiet retreat to renew, rediscovery, refresh to someday return to a more accessible environment with a perspective of commonality, not sacrifice; of unity, not autonomy.   To be free in their midst.  That's the dream.  It will come, by my own design.  In time, it will come.

In the meanwhile, as the well built and creatively designed ceiling looms in my range of vision, my weary joints coming to life, I roll off the too-close-to-the-floor bed, rise to my feet with a smile on my face, ready for another clear day; clear in spirit, clear in heart and now clear in mind.

Until then...I am home.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi,Thanks for posting abut your adventures. I am curious whether you've heard about the global terror alert? Sounds scary to me, but maybe you have made some kind of contingency plan for something like that and feel secure. Is this something you have talked about and what kinds of plans have you may have made? I know you can't anticipate every scenario but since they're including parts of Africa especially I was wondering how you feel about it? I would likely be anxious! Best of luck on your adventures!

Jessica said...

Of course, we concerned. One would be foolish not to be. Thus, we won't be renting a car and driving ourselves anywhere. We won't be going out at night. Plus, the house we're renting has on site and home security around the clock.

Your appreciated concern and comment has prompted us to write about this very topic today. Please check back later in the day.

Thanks so much for writing and for reading our blog. We so appreciate it!

Warmest regards,
Jess & Tom

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