Well, maybe this isn’t the traditional or expected reason for me to be going on this trip…but it is a real one for me. In so many ways, this trip is an escape…and though I know one can’t live there, a visit time to time can be a good thing.
I think, all the time. My mind never stops…it wears me out. Although there will be duties and tasks a plenty to carry out, I will not be in the place of having to dream up, develop, qualify, quantify, articulate, integrate or otherwise administer anything. I am a follower, and order taker, a ditch digger on this trip. I am a listener, not a talker. I am an observer, not an actor. And, honestly, I like it that way. I am to step back and try to take in what I observe: see, smell, taste and touch. MY job is to pay attention, absorb and later recount. I am going as a writer more than an actor. I am excited about a different sand, a different angle of the sun’s rays and an atmosphere whose night-time percussion keeps a different beat.
I won’t think about it, pass it though any sieves until we return. I am going to gather…with and around and up.