I just took a walk through a summer rain storm. The large drops were delightful on my hot skin at first, and I slowed down to somehow drink in the liberation raining down on me. Then I started feeling quite cold and hastened my pace. Among the ensuing thunder, sharp pops of nearby gunfire gave me a feeling of excitement, like being on the sharpest edge of life…
The sounds of gunfire were not from Somali pirates about to kidnap me on Lamu island, but from the shooting venue at the London 2012 Olympics, which is just across from my home in the capital city that the whole world is looking at for these next two weeks.
For instead of getting on the flight back to Lamu on Thursday night, my body and my heart overruled my head’s notion of “duty” and took an executive decision to prolong my period of rest in Europe. I was, simply put, not ready to return… to the physical hardships of the Equator, the mental pressure of working without supervision or backup, the loneliness, the hunger, the sleep deprivation, and all the other challenges I have been sharing with you these last two months.
I will be heading back to finish my volunteering in Lamu at the very beginning of November instead, when Wendy Mandy, the project coordinator, will be there herself in person. This will give me some support and “protection” from the enormous needs of the villagers. All the packages you have sent are being safely and carefully guarded in the meantime, and will only be released when I arrive to collect them in 3 months’ time.
My personal sense of heroics does not like this unplanned turn of events at all, of course, as I donned my superhero outfit to go save lives, help the needy, and find meaning in my own life, and now I am leaving the villagers to rely on the under-equipped and under-staffed district up the coast in my absence.
It occurred to me, however, that when giving of oneself comes from a place of martyrdom, of reticence, then the giving is probably best put on pause until there is something genuine and selfless to give once again. My own reserves need to be properly replenished first. And my body’s message was very strong on that front: “Take one more step towards that airport and I will crumple right under your heroically-inclined head!”
My heart’s memories of the smiling children in Lamu was not a strong enough pull to do the sort of violence onto myself that another month in their proximity would involve right now. I trust the Universe will look after them and their shiny souls in the meantime.
Instead, for me, it will be about more rest, more food, more returning to centre, more integrating of these experiences, and accepting that I can only do my best with what I have.
A sort of spatiotemporal distortion has thus opened, where I am in a very different place than expected at this moment. It almost feels like an alternate reality to have warm showers, drinkable water in the tap, endless food supplies, no insects crawling on my food if left out for more than a few minutes, no one knocking on my windows or doors at all hours, no mosquitoes swarming round my ankles in the day and ears in the night. A bit of Olympic gunfire from across the road and traffic chaos below my windows is a rather innocuous trade-off!
I will live these next few months with my heart open, explore this alternate strand of reality where I chose not to put others’ needs before my own, and I will take in all the nurturing I need before my return for another stint in Lamu. I long to find a way to be present with the bottomless need of the villagers and, at the same time, not have to fall back on heroics or martyrdom to see me through. I am just an ordinary guy, doing what I can with what I have.
Extra-ordinary love to all of you, who have been following and supporting my journey so far!
