Floetic Justice

The Game Plan

I hate playing games (the metaphoric type) and this isn’t much of a plan so perhaps titling this “The Game Plan” is a recipe for disaster.

With that said, epiphanies-a-plenty have been pounding my brain and if the lightbulb above my head goes off once more I may need to buy more electricity (South Africa’s pre-paid eletrical system is a story of its own).

So here it is:

1) Enjoy South Africa

2) Stop mourning my loss of the United States and the numerous and valued friendships I cherish.

3) Let go.

With so much swirling around me (exams I should be studying for instead of mini-blogging), a new and uncertain relationship on my horizon, the search for a new place to live, the awkward convo I’m preparing to have with an amazing roommate, the hype surrounding the World Cup (24 days!), the continuing strains in family relationships… it would be easy to lose track of the beauty that my very residence in this place commands.

A year ago, I was sitting in a cubicle slaving away for the beast that is Corporate America, paining as I felt little bits of my soul being chipped away day by day, and longing for a life that somehow felt more real than the manufactured existence that was my reality.

So this—this is real. This is raw. This is Africa.

With its beauty and horror.

With my laughs and loves.

With the electricity that comes in knowing that while the future is uncertain, there is no doubt that here—here, is where I’m supposed to be.

For now, what I want…

I wanna go back to the days when I earned my own money, when my rent was paid on time and if for some god-awful reason not, I knew I had only myself to blame. To the days when I always had food in my fridge and didnt have to hide from my roommate or escape to a friend’s place for the whole weekend just to have something to eat. To the time when my social circle was full and abundantly blessed with real, genuine people, and not a handful of snot-nosed trust fund babies who have no clue what real life is. I want to go back, but realize that what was will never be again. That what is, is still in progress. And that what will be, remains to be seen. So I’ll wish in one hand and shed tears in the other and see which one fills up first.

The Invitation

The Invitation  

Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Canadian Teacher and Author

 It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon…
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.