Eleven

A new year, perhaps a new self? Isn’t that what we all wish for? Who can claim they are truly happy with themselves? Not in a superficial or trivial manner, but content with principles, love, and being good in a world that drifts in ever greyer skies.

The world is flat and my family has returned to the other side. I’m sad now for a lot of reasons. It seems the year in hindsight was only a handful of days and world continues to falter. My earnest hope for restoring my faith in humanity has vanished wholly, perhaps with only crumbs remaining at the bottom of my heart.

Work and family pilfering all of my energies and efforts; I forgot the world around me. In a way, it was more peaceful. To pause and breathe your surroundings means the foul stench of the world fills your being. A suffocating darkness consumes you, yet you regain the ability to interact.

I have been out of Mwazisi for quite sometime now. My mind shut down, I’m stalling. My phone rings at least 15 times a day from site calling on project status, logistics, and a laundry list of work left. It is not work I fear, but the solitude. The quiet of my days I accepted as a reality, but for the past month my home was filled with sound.

Music, voices, laughter, chatter, the opening of gifts, the clatter of pots in the kitchen. I will fall back to my way of life again. Pachoko pachoko. Rebuild the walls. The past year gifted me many new lessons, friends and adventures. Hang my hopes. Little by little.

Happy New Year.