NB: This is a personal thoughts post, not reflective of
the official opinions of RVS or WorldTeach (none of my posts are!). It’s also slightly a personal confession,
rather than a glance into my day-to-day interactions at RVS.
Today
is Namibian Independence Day, so as a school, we have been celebrating with
many discussions on freedom and what independence means to people. In 1990, it meant freedom from political and
social oppression for Namibian people.
Today, it means freedom from economic hardship and suppression in
Namibia.
For me,
though, it means freedom from sadness. This past year, to put it in Namibian
terms, I have been “suffering.” Even
when everything little thing is gonna be alright, my heart was sad. Like a tight knot in my chest, bringing me
close to tears about seventy percent of the time. It was all I could do to greet people some days. And I felt guilty about it all the time. I’m surrounded by children who have lost both
parents, have lost siblings, have no food to eat at home, nor soap to bathe
with. And yet, they manage to smile and
soldier on, hopeful of a bright and happy future for them. What reasons do I have to cry? It’s not fair
of me to be sad, when I’m surrounded by so much hope in such dismal
conditions.
But in
the words of Princess Elsa, I am starting to be able to “let it go.” The guilt, the heavy heart and the worry. I am listening to my brain, which is telling
me that things are going to work out, and every little mistake is not always my
fault. I was drowning in guilt from
silly little mistakes, instead of learning from them and moving on. I was drowning in anger at others, instead of
learning from them and moving on. I was
constantly worried about what would happen next, instead of allowing the future
to take its course and moving in the moment.
I am stronger for it, now. And happier for it,
now. And more appreciative of it, now.
My mind
is strong enough to tell my heart, “Everything is going to be alright.” And my
heart is strong enough to listen. I am free.
Great blog
ReplyDelete