Recognizable sounds, clanging of church bells in Cairo reverse my memory into the small dorm room shared with my lovely co-habitation partner, Mikki. Philly seems like yesterday, today, tomorrow and wishing we could all come together again, but with the understanding it will never be the same. As in anything, we have already formed into new characters switching our once predictable lines with newly formed scripts.
Awakening early this morning gave me reserve to not break my straightening iron on the yellow cement wall due to its failure to make me into what I believe is professional me, or rather me who has to wash her hair less.
Sitting on a newly made, created, but ancient bed drawing split faces and writing my typical illogical and wordy words on a page in a small, black sketch book content in Cairo. The first good beginning in many days since my return after my grandma’s death: a death that proved indescribable in pain and incomprehensible in where my mind, a mind taken and compressed by lightless thoughts. What now? Do I continue or seek a reunion. Answer as of the 2oth of November, I continue, I persevere through seeking His guiding but invisible hand (no, not an Adam Smith reference). Fearful? Why yes, extremely afraid in fact, of becoming a runaway from various friends, family members, and situations that are opposite of comfort.
Description of my morning or long night is in order. I fell asleep as of 12 am, woke up every hour, but did not panic. Was it the mere fact that in the room next to me was a living soul? Possibly.
After deciding to rise at 6am, a morning prayer bead session occurred, first time in many months. Prayers for others which always help reflect your thoughts away from selfish tendencies. Friends that I can relate with their grieving of a dear friend, friend in the wilderness in Nepal seeking to help bring literacy to others, family at home, a friend’s parents illnesses….when you create lists like this it is easy to not feel so desperately bad and seeking relief. You have found relief in the love of others. You have found a sanctuary with God who hears, but doesn’t stop there, actually listens and usually responds. Even when we ignore the response, it has happened whether we bring it to life or let it remain unseen.
Sitting on a newly acquired balcony since my move in with another fellow female in Cairo, provided a hazy landscape but with crisp chilly air. Cairo, despite your prior and my prior assumptions, does cool off when the sun sets and as it rises in the early morning. Anne Lamont was my morning friend, along with verses passed my way from Charlene.
I have been unable to sing, pray, listen to anyone speaking of the unconditional love of God in recent days. I was angry, in fact, furious with a God who I believed left me isolated in a culture I still struggle to understand and find a place. How blind we can make ourselves in our struggle for self-preservation and identity in only ourselves. Through various mornings of asking for help, believing I heard only the annoying honking and voices of passing bystanders. This morning was my revelation of still believing in a God that is in control. That all seen and unseen will be redeemed, even the worst of the worst in humanity (including myself). Miraculously unbelievably simple and believed before and after previous grief periods in my not so far past. But again, found. I’m learning as I grey, or rather my blonde roots seep through my brunette dyed hair, that life is trying, celebrating small triumphs that you had nothing to do with, failing, and repeating because we are loved and wanted.
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