Unpacking. And for those who know me well, you know Im not talking about a suitcase. Unpacking the lessons learned from our recent trip. Unpacking and feeling again the emotions and sensations of the rural Dominican community. Unpacking, reflecting on and designing an action plan for a more responsible life. This is always the hard part for me. Taking out the images of simple homes, limited electricity, little water and free range chickens swaggering out and around the homes. Next to simple dwellings are smiling faces with warm eyes, confidence and poise. Hand made tables and plastic chairs host men playing dominoes, enjoying the sun and the company of friends. Young girls and young moms chop colorful vegetables and stir a pot of rice and beans and some delicious dish that my spelling will betray. It sounds like ahh so pow, and it is amazing! More chickens and some really proud roosters mingle. The pace is slow, the mood content. The feeling is that of connection. For tonight, I unpack the memory of a gracious and connected community. I walk into my home of comfort and excess and I feel guilty, almost slutty, like a scantily clad hooker with her assets on display. Pantries full of food. Cabinets with sets of china and crystal. Nice rugs and throw pillows to suit a Sultan. Enough shoes in my closet to fit an entire village. Too much stuff. The pace is hurried, the mood swings between uptight to anxious, the cell phone rings, the football playoffs are blaring on multiple TVs, its an electronic overload. How do I reconcile my excess with their need? What can I change to live in greater harmony with my community?
Posted on: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 00:39:32 +0000
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