(The following is from an e-mail I recently wrote to my cousin, Allison. After writing it, I realized that this part of it might be important to share with others as an insight into this experience.)
Dear Allison,
Thank you for such a thoughtful e-mail . . . I’m guessing from the recent influx of e-mails from family members that Matthew communicated with others that I was missing home quite a bit recently. It’s funny, but this longing for home doesn’t really seem to be coming from a feeling of depletion, exhaustion or something that is lacking here. I’m pretty content with the relationships I’ve been forming with my students, co-workers, neighbors and community mates, but there is definitely something unnatural about being so far away from the people who have been consistently a part of my life for 22 (almost 23) years. Last Sunday and Wednesday, especially, I was acutely aware of the length of time that still lies ahead of me. On the one hand, I have been here for a while; I’m more or less ‘adjusted’ to the extent that is possible in 5 months, or at the very least, I’m in a routine of healthy habits and relationships, but on the other I’m still here for another year and a half and have A LOT to learn. For some reason, I was better at the beginning of all of this at taking things one day at a time and not looking too far down the road. It was probably out of necessity. And it probably is still necessary, or at least very important to maintain that philosophy. So, I guess your picture of me being very tired is not exactly accurate- my life here is much more balanced and even-keeled than it was in college. My commitments are far fewer; I have plenty of time for reflection, exercise, reading, eating healthy, etc., but there is definitely a part of me that thrives on busyness and productivity, so I’m learning how to translate that part of me in a cultural context in which those things are not of high importance.
It sounds counter-intuitive, because I’m living half way around the world from what I have known as home for most of my life, but my world here is drastically smaller than my world at home. It’s kind of paradoxical because my world is simultaneously getting bigger by living in a different culture and experiencing/bearing witness to life in Tanzania, but my life within this culture is much smaller in scope and in someways it feels much less meaningful or important on a day to day basis. My independence is limited (for good/safety-related reasons), my relationships are fewer and very different from friendships at home and my network is much smaller here. I think this is part of what I was lamenting. At home- at any given point in a day I could visit or talk to any number of family members or friends, read a newspaper, go to a movie, museum, park, fitness class, mall, beach, hike, rally, bookstore, coffee shop, restaurant, bar, play, library, lecture, etc. The list could go on ad infinitum, but here, my world is much more limited. I realize that this is part of the solidarity and simple living aspects of this experience, but I guess I just didn’t really anticipate missing the options as much as the people. In some ways this is really important- it’s another way I’m realizing how privileged I am, how choice, and vacation, and entertainment are all privileges which many do not experience, but in other ways it’s just hard to suddenly not have all of those options.
In yoga, we frequently talk about being in the discomfort of a pose, noticing the places your body is tensing up, the places of strength and flexibility and the places where resistance is strong and stubborn and leaning into those places of resistance when possible, but also just letting your body be as it is without comparing it to another’s or judging yourself too harshly. This is one of those stubborn moments of resistance and even weakness in my thighs and biceps after holding chair pose for the past five months. I need to be more gentle with myself and be more accepting of the moments of weakness, stubbornness and resistance.
I’m learning to do this, but it’s a process. I also could probably seek out more options within this context, be a little bolder, but I guess I also don’t feel like it’s my place to challenge the standard of life. I feel like this is part of what I was called to- to feeling more limited, less powerful, more inadequate, less self-important, more dependent, more intentional, more reflective and much more uncomfortable. Right now, I’m starting to ease out of this pose and into the next one in the practice, we’ll see where my body and my breath take me and we’ll see which parts of me prove to be more stubborn, less flexible, stronger, or weaker and just accept them and bear witness to the discomfort within and around me.
Love always,
Katie
