I’m lying on my back in bed right now. 2:50pm, Sunday afternoon. I feel the weight of obligation in my shoulders, and the tenseness of a mind on edge.
I laid on a bed feeling this same way a few years ago in Bolivia. I was taking online classes, and was in the middle of a philosophy course. I loved the subject, but poured myself into it heavily, and found myself lying on a bed, on my back, uneasily.
I was on vacation with my Dad. He and I were spending a few days in the old colonial town of Sucre. Whitewashed buildings, cobblestone roads, typical Latin American plazas. I remember a teacher’s union striking, and their march through the streets. I also remember stumbling upon the right music through my headphones at that time when I was lying on the bed. I listened to some songs that brought back a sense of clarity and stillness- a sense that things were right and it was good to be alive. I think I fell asleep.
And awoke to my alarm. Which meant it was time to head out to town for the evening. We walked through the open-air hotel corridors and into the night, took in the fresh air, and roamed the streets until we found a hole in the wall worth eating at. I remember the meal (stuffed steak, possibly the finest thing I’ve ever eaten). I remember thinking about the European backpackers who came in. I remember pondering the philosophy texts I had been poring over. I remember just being there with my Dad. And it was so good.
So good to simply be there, in Bolivia, with him. And to think that earlier that afternoon, I had had a tired mind, as I do now.
Or did, I guess. It feels more like thankfulness now. And hope. And looking forward.