Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I don't limbo at parties

You know, I’m the first to admit. I don’t “limbo” well. I’m an incredibly OCD-type personality who spends countless hours making lists and thinking too far ahead about endless possibilities impacting my existence on this planet—what some like to refer to as an “over-thinker”. I have attempted many times before to be more mindful; awaken to the present; open myself to the universe and allow things to happen. It’s incredibly difficult for someone like me. And the irony is that “people like me” are often self-aware enough to recognize that the mental gymnastics are nothing more than a futile exercise that never truly gets us anywhere, nor do we gain much by exhausting all the possibilities our little brain can conjure up. Does it present some sense of calm in a very delusional way? Dare I say peace of mind? Not in my wildest dreams.

The source of all this newfound anxiety you ask? A potential extension of my time in Rwanda. Oh god, the mental energy I’ve expended. Abandoning the geriatric poodle and imposing on friends; missing the birth of my third niece (or first nephew =); missing family, missing friends, missing out on life in the Big Sleeze. It’s exhausting. Honestly. My guilt is a full-time job. I won’t bore you with details, but in a nutshell, I have been offered a research position through December here in Kigali. It’s a great opportunity, one I really shouldn’t pass up. When it comes down to it, it’s really kind of a no-brainer…once I clear out all the clutter and guilt and loneliness.
So, here I am again-the dreaded limbiosis. (Please acknowledge that I’m completely aware that this is a made up word, yet somehow perfectly articulates my current state). No matter how much I persuade myself that the transient lifestyle is totally my bag, I’m not entirely convinced that I’m very good at the actual act. Ironically, I’m pretty sure this is stemming from my deep-rooted fear of permanence. I am uncompromising in my state of dissatisfaction. There’s too much to see, explore, experience. The thought of sticking around any place for too long gives me the heeby-jeebies. This is most likely why at the ripe old age of 30, I still don’t have a couch, a car, or a matching set of dinner plates to call my own. That’s just too much stuff. It is also a reflection of my guttural response to becoming a parent. Dang. Now THAT’s permanent. I can’t even date someone longer than a month.

So, I’ve come to terms with sticking around a bit longer…I think. It feels good to have some clarity and make a decision. I think the hardest thing to accept is that while my life is in a constant state of change, the people surrounding me are, too. My best friend leaves NOLA this Thursday. Never crossed my mind when saying goodbye in June that I would come home to an Eddie-less New Orleans. Not even an option. Or meeting amazing people in Rwanda that are just as transient as I am, leaving just as I am getting used to having them in my life. It’s painful. It’s expected. And yet there I am again—finding new ways to transition out of one life into another. Adjusting. Adapting. Recreating a life for myself in a city I love or redefining myself in a new country altogether. I guess it’s part of the impermanence I cling to so strongly. I guess it’s simply just life. And that IS something I can be mindful of.

Now…if only I can convince the next Tulane interns coming this fall to bring a 12 year old poodle as their carry-on?

1 comment:

  1. I'm currently in a state of limbiosis. On Impermanence, it's one of the key doctrines in Buddhism. The constant ebb and flow, wax and wane, nothing lasts forever.

    "Buddhism declares that there are five processes on which no human being has control and which none can ever change. These five processes are namely, the process of growing old, of not falling sick, of dying, of decay of things that are perishable and of the passing away of that which is liable to pass".

    The Buddha said attachment, and clinging leads to suffering, you can't cling in a state of impermanence. So in a way, impermanence frees us from this suffering. At least that's my take. Keep writing Ocean eyes!!

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