I would have rather sat at the green;
if only for a change.
Prosperity befalls me and I'm suffocated by my own indifference.
Your creativity annoyed me
and yesterday was the first day I was not scared to die.
So many days have passed since I've updated this, I'm not real sure anyone really reads this anymore, I admit they were probably much more exciting while I was in Africa.
Life is good though; everyday is a struggle to find a place, a purpose to cause every
thing to make sense. But what I'm learning is that really, it never will. It's hard learning how to be happy. Realizing that good things can happen without strings attached. That there will always be a mystery to contentment, and that is letting go of knowing everything.I have to admit, international development work appeals to me still, but I think it's because it is somewhere else than here. It's somewhere I can run that seems nobler, a greater, just cause to work towards. It's simpler to feed a child than to cure domestic abuse. It is easier to build a well than to hold an angry child.
What's hard is taking the yoke I've been given.
What's hard is opening my eyes to the world that's been placed around me.
The lost, the hurting, the hungry, the angry.
What's hard is accepting that I can have joy, that I really can be happy serving this world, instead of trying to create my own in a place that allows me to escape everything I need to heal from on the inside.
It has been trying,
no doubt.
But undeniably freeing.
Let there be craw fish.
