I love Cambodian traffic

I love the traffic in this great city of Phnom Penh. At the surface it seems like utter chaos. there are no lanes and few stoplights. Most intersections are "4-way-goes" rather than "4-way-stops". But despite the seeming mayhem, the way this traffic flows is actually magnificent and specific. You only have to know how it works.

In Cambodian traffic most people drive on the right hand side of the road. That is, unless you have a stop coming up on the left hand side of the road, then you drive against the traffic. You drive on the far left, staying out of the way even though you are going against the flow.

Since someone may come down the wrong side of the road at any time, you constantly keep your eyes forward at what is coming. When turning you may look behind you briefly, but only for a moment. You can't risk missing someone coming toward you from the front.

Eyes forward. Always at what's to come, never at what you've past.

Red lights are optional. When the roads are packed some people will follow the suggestions of the colored lights. But if you find that there is a space for you between the other vehicles, carry on. Don't let that light stop you. Intersections are never empty, not even for a moment. Because why waste free space?

The blind spots of  large cars are your shield, come alongside them. It's easier to turn with a car and keep your eye on one vehicle that may run into you, rather than a dozen motos coming toward you at different speeds. These large cars are the most dangerous and at the same time the safest part of driving. They are both your enemy and ally.

There is no need to get angry. That moto carrying a hundred chickens will drive slower because it has moving cargo. The motos carrying furniture and nursing mothers will also be slower. If you're faster, go around them. There is no room for ego on these streets. We all go at our own speed, never resenting someone for the speed their cargo and vehicle requires.

Is it dangerous? Sometimes, but not usually. Most of the time we are going slow enough that a collision means nothing more than a bruised knee. The real danger comes when the streets are empty and you believe you can speed through. The scary parts come when you are alone.

Above all else, the key is to keep moving. When traffic seems jammed and countless vehicles are going in different directions through one intersection, keep moving. Find the crevices where you fit and squeeze through. The only way to fail in Cambodian traffic is to sit still. Always seek the space that will propel you forward. Even if that space happens to be around the sidewalk.

This is Cambodian traffic. Keep your eyes forward, go in whichever direction you need, come alongside others for security, don't get angry, don't be alone, and above all keep moving.

Marvel in the beauty of this traffic, recognize that it is all a expression of this great country and its brave people. 

Grand

I will often say something is grand when it amazes and moves me. While I was in India I met a lovely Irish girl who told me that back home they used grand in a more casual sense, as a way of saying things were essentially "alright". She would chuckle a bit when I said "grand" with wide eyes of excitement. And I would chuckle when she said "grand" to describe something supremely normal.

It got me thinking about how we use words to describe our experiences. The words that were originally provocative and vast become everyday. Which is why we have slang constantly developing, we are always looking for a way to describe circumstances that the old language cannot contain.

It makes me wonder, what if we gave these words their full meaning. What if we said them with all of the power they were meant to contain? Would it be enough?

Grand (adj): Conceived on an ambitious scale; extravagant.

Awesome(adj): Extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring awe.

Fantastic (adj): Imaginative and fanciful; remote from reality.

Life is grand in the sense that it is grandiose. This world is unapologetically extravagant. The colors, the experiences, each individual who is somehow more intricate than a galaxy.

Life is awesome in the sense that it inspires awe. This world leaves us with wide eyes and open jaws, staring in amazement at how much beauty each moment contains.

Life is fantastic in the sense that it is more imaginative than we can ever fully realize. This world contains so much that is "larger than life itself".

Somehow life is more than being alive.
Somehow I am more than a body.
Somehow the beach is more than the water meeting the sand.

And what if we began to allow these words, to allow ourselves, to be what they were always meant to be? What if we opened ourselves up to living larger than life?

Waste Nothing

I had the opportunity to visit an organization yesterday. They house kids that are orphans or at high risk of trafficking in a home environment rather than as an "orphanage". It really is beautiful seeing how they find children in the most desperate of situations and give them a home on a beautiful plot of land.

The truly unique part though is how they managed the land on this property. We saw and worked with their multiple sustainability projects. They have cows and chickens and goats and fish. The manure from all these animals goes to compost and a biogas system. The biogas system uses waste to create cooking gas and the manure is composted to fertilize a rich garden and several trees. They also have fish that they raise, whose used water goes to further enriching the soil throughout the property, as well as creating duckweed which is dried to feed the chickens. The vegetation throughout the property feeds the children, house parents, animals, and the excess is sold at a local market. The entire place is interconnected in several ways, creating a beautiful landscape where each area is enriched by another. Each and every corner of the property creates or absorbs or processes something that brings life to the next area.

The compost area is especially incredible. By combining rotten food, dead leaves, and feces- you can in time and with faithful care create a nutrient rich fertilizer. It's by going through this messy, meticulous process that they can have a tenfold increase in crop production.

It was vast and beautiful and diverse and unified. Nothing was wasted, even the literal waste.

This entire concept is fascinating on its own. This is how the world was made to work, in cycles and ecosystems. But I couldn't stop thinking of the metaphor in it all.

In the landscape of my life I frequently tend to the gardens of service and growth. I water faithfully and see beautiful fruits come of it.
Then I let the shit build up in the corner and try to ignore the smell.
I fail to realize that waste it not meant to be wasted, it is meant to be processed and used for further growth.

I have a tendency to look at certain seasons of life as a waste. I regret the tears I spent over a childhood heartache or the energy I poured into a failed project. Yet the reality is, these "wastes" could bring life to everything else.

If I could process these parts of me that I don't want to look at, I could create twice the fruit with less labor and more enjoyment. If I could let this broken heart heal, I wouldn't spend so much time patching it up. If I could learn to heal and learn to be loved, I could love and heal others without harming myself. If I take the time to wade through this shit, I can build something beautiful. 

What's to come...

I just bought my one-way ticket from Cambodia to the US. It's official. 

Let me tell you, it's surreal. I have known this transition was coming, but now it is set in stone. 

I recently  realized that this will be the first time in my life where I know what will be happening 6 months or even a year in advance. The changes in my life have always happened to me or have had a sense of urgency and unknowing. Even when I came to Cambodia, I had no idea whether I would be here for 6 months or 10 years. All of my life transitions have been open-ended and swift. This time I know all the details in advance. I know I will leave Cambodia in 4 months. I know two weeks after I arrive in the US I will being the Living School. I know what my source of income will be. 

Yet despite all this "knowing", this feels like the most uncertain transition I have ever faced. When I originally moved to Cambodia I knew that I could retreat back to the US if things went south, and life would essentiallly be the same. Now, I am going back a different person. I also realize that the people I am going back to have had their own life transitions and changes in these years. What I am going back to is not at all what I left. This known uncertainty is somehow more terrifying the the pure unknown. 

As terrifying as it is... as heartbroken as I am to leave... there is a stirring of excitement in my heart. Like walking the same trail years later after you have gained strength and wisdom. While the terrain is similar, I am different. I am surrounded by different people on this same wild journey. 

I long to use these experiences I have gained to create a brighter future wherever I am. 

I hope my experience with physical poverty helps me better love westerners in emotional poverty. 

I hope my experience as a stranger in a strange land helps me better love the strangers in my homeland. 

I hope the light from my wild dreams helps other brighten the path to their own aspirations. 

Most of all, I hope to continue becoming. I hope this next season will bring about new growth and insights. And for now, I hope to be present and experience every moment left in Cambodia to the fullest. 

This is my home.

Today was a day of housekeeping and errand running. I finally attended to the pile of laundry that has been piling up for nearly three weeks. I went to the market to stock up the fridge, and cleaned out my pantry.

As I reorganized and closed drawers, throwing away or giving away things that no longer belong- I began to cry.

Because this little room of mine is my home. Every night I sleep enclosed in the comfort of my mosquito net. Every morning I wake up and am graced by the quotes I have filled my walls with. I pray in my corner and work at my desk.

It's the first time I have ever had my own space. I can close and open the door as I please, opening up to new possibilities or closing the world off for a moment of peace. I have wept in this room, I have laughed in this room, I have had sleepovers and completed projects. Over the two years of living here I have rearranged the room a number of times. The latest arrangement is my favorite of all. Everything seems to have fallen into its proper place... I realize this as I am realizing I will need to say goodbye to it in a few short months.

It's heartbreaking because the room is a glimpse into my life as a whole. I have made a life that I love, a space that can somehow encompass all of the best parts of me while gently smoothing out the rough spots. I weep because I do not belong in the place where I have found belonging. 

I am excited for this coming season of life, don't take this as a post about regret. I know that I must be shaped further by a new environment and new adventures. But I have to be honest and admit that it is heartbreaking to lose the environment that has made me whole. It's hard to lose my home.