crY at goodbye



There is the life in Africa that was.

There is the life in Africa that never was.

There is the Life in Africa that will continue to be.

And then there is me.


I close my eyes and try to embrace the waves of change that crash over me.

Around me.

Behind me.

Without me doing anything at all.


When I see the wave coming that I think might take me closer to shore,

I grab it and hang onto it.

The turbulence propels me,

and I am lifted to a new place... beyond it.


Now I can watch, and cheer my fellow students on.

Ours is not goodbye, after all

but hello

from a new point of view.


My work here is almost done.

Life in Africa continues

and so will my own life,

richer for all I will cry for when I leave


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Putting events of the past couple of weeks into words - or putting anything into words while these things have been happening - is proving itself to be an emotional challenge that I feel myself avoiding. There is the part of me that longs to commit the process of change-making to words; there is the other part of me that longs to sit quietly and just BE for a while.

If you've ever hosted a party and felt like you had to sneak away for a minute to have a breather and freshen yourself up a bit before going back out to face the crowd, well... I guess that's me right now. I've not abandoned the pArtY here - just giving myself a minute to breathe before I come back to start filling y'all in on what all's been going on.

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