18th
the fog.
My mind feels in a bit of a fog.
Maybe it’s that a week ago, I was amongst soldiers and IDPs. Maybe it’s because in the blink of an eye, I was down the mountain hugging a dear friend who has since lost her best friend and husband of 42 years to cancer.
Or maybe it could be the stark contrast of the life I’ve been living in Burma and the one I found myself in when I arrived in Kuala Lumpur for a visa run. My surroundings went from bamboo walls and boiled drinking water to Chanel handbags and eu de toilette.
Maybe it was the street kids, who came running into the office I’m currently using, and ran to me for hugs. Sure, maybe it is a coping mechanism, an act of control. But they are children, and children need hugs.
Maybe it’s the cold I’ve been fighting for the past week, that yesterday decided to gift me with an awesome cough and second round of fever.
Or maybe, just maybe, I’m not very good at processing things. I never have been.
So here, as I sit with my mind in a fog, I think about these things. I ache for my friend, who has lost her life’s love. I’m grateful for hot showers and less bugs, but I’m missing my students and my life on the mountain. I think about home, and I long for it. But I am thankful for this season, and for the many emotions it brings.
