I am struggling not to whine and get depressed. As a general personality trait, I'm neither a whiner nor suffer from moodiness or depression. Kabul has been a mess lately with multiple attacks with two of the recent ones close enough for us to instinctively duck for cover and dash for safety. This has resulted in being locked down for five weekends in a row with nowhere to go and to spend far too many hours in one's own room. I am a social animal and being cutoff from life outside the house and the office is draining my spirit.
My teeth are threatening to constantly clench, my lips feel tight, my gut tense and my breathing forced. My whole being is taut and tense, my shoulders feel hard as rock and my face frozen into something that is not attractive. I've just realized that I need to postpone my trip to India by a day and I still don't have my visa. Next week I have full day workshops and I'm scratching my head and trying to figure out how I will find the time to get the visa, and even more distressing is the nagging thought about whether I will be allowed to venture out to the embassy to process the paperwork.
I am sending out an appeal and a prayer to give me courage, fortitude, wisdom, humor, serenity, and compassion to remain flexible and to retain a sense of fun. I want the wisdom to believe that this too shall pass and to use the possibility of having to spend more time in my room to explore other avenues of serenity and fulfillment. I want to channel the courage of San Suu Kyi of Burma who has spent decades under house arrest and not blow this comparatively miniscule experience out of proportion. Instead of using this surge of energy that wants expression in being whiny and grouchy, I want my line to shine bright and perhaps even brighter. I don't want to this to get me down, but instead to lift me higher.
I don't want to feel as if opportunities are being lost but instead to feel as if this very negative situation is instead opening more doors for me. I want my soul to find even more nourishment instead of feeling as if it is slowly withering. I want my easy smile and laughter and sense of joy - gifts from my mother - to remain fully stocked and even overflowing instead of being drained dry. I want to channel my mother who under far, far more difficult circumstances managed to radiate joy and compassion so much so that people whose lives by all normal standards were more bountiful flocked to her to absorb some of that spirit. I want to channel the dauntless spirit of my Afghan friends who have survived decades of lives being on hold and have come out of it with their ability to be kind, to be compassionate, and to laugh intact. I don't want to wallow in self pity, give in to a pervasive sense of resentment and instead feel as if I'm free and swimming with Dolphins in open water.
I will not allow myself to feel imprisoned and instead make friends with the walls of my room, the walls of my compound, the barbed wires on top of the compound walls, the guard house, the sniper posts, the safe room and most of all with my spirit that is unique, and belongs to me and will not be destroyed by anyone else. This too shall pass.
