Content

"Is something wrong?"

My friend asked me this over and over in the beginning of our travels together. I was always taken aback because it was at times where all was well, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Yet she would still say she wanted to be sure, because she said my energy had changed. I continually insisted that I was feeling great.

As this continued I eventually asked her what about me changed that made her worry something was wrong. She explained that I would suddenly not talk at all, and just sit quietly. She was worried I was stuck in my head or upset about something. I thought about all of the times she had asked this and realized these were moments where I was fully and completely content.

I explained to her that in these moments where I was content and filled with the current situation, I would just sit in the peace of it and soak it all in. I love these moments, they are light and airy, yet also grounding.

I wondered why a friend of almost a decade didn't know that this is what happened when I was content. Then I realized that she had never seen me like this. Because truth be told, I only experienced contentment recently. I've always been someone who experiences emotions with intensity and odd mixtures. Happiness always carried a dark undertone because I told myself I wasn't deserving of it. Sadness carried a strange lightness because it felt familiar to me. There was always such a whiplash of emotions that I was never able to sit in the stillness of being... content.

In these recent years of healing I have found a new range of emotions that were never available to me before. I was jumping from suffering to mania so quickly that I missed all of the beauty of the emotions in between. Suddenly the world is much more vast and diverse than I ever realized.
I'm feeling amazed.
I'm feeling overjoyed.
I'm feeling content. 

What You Notice

In the past month I have had several visitors. Last week I was visited by a friend I met in India, who is living there but is from the US. She is a journalist who majored in history and is very interested in politics. She would noticed things like infrastructure in different cities. She would ask about the government and why they chose to focus their efforts in some areas rather than others. She wondered what it was that made Cambodian Buddhism so much different than other traditions of Buddhism, and how it had been influenced by Hinduism. She asked well-educated, dynamic questions that I had never been asked before. I loved it! We had long discussions about how our cultures impact us, the history of different countries, and how it all comes together.

It was such a joy, being with her opened my eyes of new way to seeing Cambodia. I realized that her background, interests, and personality all changed how she viewed this amazing country.

A few days after I said goodbye to this friend from India/US, one of my dear childhood friends LexiJo arrived. These two friends are polar opposites, in so many great ways.

Lexi is a creative at heart, drawn to all that glitters. She notices movements, colors, and music. She would point out the blue tinted windows, the colored rooftops, and the lit buildings. Anytime a child or animal would pass by, she couldn't pull herself away. When we drove through the city in a tuktuk, she would be constantly immersed in the world we pass by. Her bright heart blends with this bright country so very well.

I was talking with my roommate about this, about how each of them see the city in ways that mimic their own personal interests. I reminisced on previous visitors and teams and thought about what their eyes were drawn to in Cambodia. My roommate asked what the thing I noticed when I came to Cambodia... I paused for a while, thinking back to that day 6 years ago. I remembered instantly feeling connected to the country, but I couldn't put my finger on why that was.

"It's the people"
She interrupted my thoughts, or maybe came right into them. She told me that  whenever we talk about Cambodia, whenever I come home from a day of work excited or defeated, it is always tied to the people in this culture. And she's right, even as this country is rapidly developing and changing, I am continually drawn in by the spirit of the Cambodian people. Their resilience and kindness brings me new joy each and every day.

So there's three of us- the historian/journalist, the creative, and the bleeding heart. Respectively drawn to the cultural context, the beauty of the city, and the hearts of the people.

And the reality is that for each person who is fortunate enough to visit this fantastic country, there is another lens with which they see it. Cambodia is all things to all people because each one of us is seeing the part of it that brings out our own joys and fears. Somehow it is funny, sad, and beautiful all at the same time. 

Powers and Principalities

I've been thinking a lot lately about justice. What's wrong and what's right? Whose side are we on? And who are we fighting against?

I used to clearly know right and wrong. I could tell you who the good guys and bad guys were.
The pimp? Bad guy
The slave? Good guy
The abuser? Bad guy
The abused? Good guy
The dictator? Bad guy
The refugee? Good guy
On and on it goes, on one side is the victim and on the other is the perpetrator.

Until I realized the one who abused me was also abused.
That pimp who trafficked that child was also trafficked when they were young. 
The bad guys were good guys at some point, now they are desperate for some sort of security, a shred of power that will help them feel safe.

So here we are, in this endless cycle of good people doing bad things and bad people doing good things and who really is the good guy in all of it?

I recently went to these two temples. They are on opposing hillsides, one called Phnom Broh (Man), and the other Phnom Srey (Woman).

We were first led to the temple of the man and so we looked around. It was breathtaking. Filled with ornate paintings and stupahs. Every way you turned there was some new, intricate detail that had been missed before. There were statues and tombs and temples, it was gorgeous. A few monks and laypeople walked around, enjoying the beauty and doing whatever rituals were required.

Then we went to the temple of the woman. There were still a few paintings and buildings, but in contrast to the man's temple it was pathetic. It obviously hadn't been kept up over the years as the other had. The temple of the woman required no fee to enter (as the man's did). And instead of people enjoying it and doing rituals, there were beggers on the steps.

Honestly, it infuriated me. For days I couldn't let go of my frustration at an overt example of women being treated as less than men. But who is there for me to be mad at? The builders? No, they were doing what they had to in order to feed their families. The people visiting the temple? No, they are only going to see that which was placed in front of them. The culture? Maybe, but the culture has made great strides- As my friend said, “at least they have a temple for the woman”.

While I look around and am surrounded with the issues of Cambodia- slavery, homelessness, disease...  I am also hearing about the issues in America- institutional racism, police brutality, and gun violence. It's all too much. There is such great injustice around, once again I look for the villain to be mad at. Is it the police? No, there are good officers who are protecting American citizens. Is it Trump? Not fully, if anything he deserves pity more than anger. Is it white people? Not fully, most white people are working with the culture that was handed to them and are unaware of the systems that keep racism alive.

Once again, the problem is so much bigger than any individual.

There is a verse in the bible that says “we do not fight against flesh and blood, but against powers and principalities”. For the first time in my life, I deeply believe that to be true. Misogyny, racism, superiority- these things are more than any one person. They are about the way power has been distributed, it's the principles we choose to live by rather than fight against.

So how do we fight it? Lately I've been wondering if the key is to stop fighting.

I get so preoccupied with fighting my enemy, that I don't realize they have also been beaten down by injustice. No one chooses to abuse or harm another unless they themselves have been hurt. This abuser, this pimp, this dictator- he/she has been hurt in the same way that they are hurting me and my loved ones. Maybe if I could learn to love them, together we could heal the scars. Maybe we could both learn to stop acting out of our woundedness and to instead seek wholeness.
Maybe Jesus was onto something when he said to love our enemies.

I don't fully know what it looks like yet- for my enemy to be a system rather than the individuals. But something tells me there is more to this than I ever knew.

Short Hellos and Last Goodbyes

Tonight I am going to a friend's house for a "goodbye dinner". This friend is leaving on furlough soon, and by the time she comes back, I will already be in America. So we are going to have dinner together. We are going to talk about the joys of the past and the uncertainty of the future, we will laugh and we will cry. Because all we have left are these fleeting moments.

Last night I met some new friends. When we talked about getting together later, I sadly mentioned that I'll be leaving soon, there isn't much time. So I asked them about their lives and who they were. Each person I meet teaches me something. I may only meet them this one time, so I try to learn all I can about who they are and where they come from. Because all we have left are these fleeting moments.

This transition time of preparing to go back to America has been uncomfortable for me. I feel like I'm starting to not quite fit here, but I also don't fit there. I'm trying to soak up each interaction and feel it fully, before it slips out of my fingers.

And as painful as it is, there's something magical about it. Each moment could be the last of its kind, giving it more value than these words will ever capture. I think I now know what they mean when they say "live as if each day were your last". It's not about having your affairs in order, it's not about making some grand gesture, it's about this moment. If this were your last moment, you'd savor it fully. You'd hold on a little longer in that goodbye hug, and you'd ask a lot more questions when you say hello. Because these goodbyes and hellos, these fleeting moments, are all we have.

This Moment

Today was beautiful.
Not that it was out of the ordinary. It was actually a supremely "normal" day.

I rode my moto from my home in the city to the village where I work.

At work I communicated with our team on patterns for our sewing project.

During my lunch break I helped one of my coworkers and dear friends with her English homework.

I had a drink from the coffee lady on the corner.

I came home and had a delicious dinner that my roommate cooked.

And in these little moments, I was overwhelmed at how beautiful it all is.

How beautiful is it that I can sit with my friend and help her with her homework? Me speaking my native tongue, her learning a new skill. It's incredible that these mispronounced words can bring us ever closer.

How beautiful is it that I can be a part of the ethical fashion revolution? In cleaning out cabinets and communicating about dress pattern changes... I can see lives changed when the West holds an awareness of their brothers and sisters across the world who are making their clothes.

How beautiful is it to be known? To go visit the coffee lady on the corner, to wave to the tuktuk driver who naps on the street. To be greeted by familiar faces each day.

How beautiful is it to enjoy a meal with a kindred spirit? To enjoy time with my roommate, reminiscing about the past and planning for our futures.

I've been struggling lately with staying present. In this season of preparing to leave Cambodia, I'll become obsessed with planning for the future or mourning what will be lost. Because there is no moment quite like this one. Life will never again be what it is now. It's both beautiful and sad. It's the vastness of this moment. 

How far I've come

A year ago I made a huge life change.

After an interaction with a new friend, I realized I was carrying around huge wounds. Not only was I living with these wounds, but living through them. I carried the belief that I needed to prove to the world that I deserved to exist. I would prove that I was the most selfless, the most loving, the least confrontational. I worked endlessly to serve, to be the lowest of the low. I made myself into a reflection of everyone I met, refusing to exist as a person on my own. I realized that I was fighting for identity in my work and service. I was endlessly fighting against all of the lies I had been told about who I was.

So I quit. I quit my job at the time in an organization that I was with for the wrong reasons. I quit all works of service. For a month I did nothing but sleep and pray and read and rest. You can read more about that here.

It has been over a year since that month off. I still have dark days. I still have panic attacks and depression. I still struggle. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. I ask myself why I am fighting so hard to heal when I keep ending up broken anyway. I get frustrated at the slow, grueling process of healing.

But then this month that dear friend of mine visited again. I spoke with her about the past year and all of the changes in my heart. I built a house with these friends and worked with children and relaxed. As I did this, I realized that I was doing the same actions with completely different motivations. The guilt I used to feel over relaxing had subsided. The urge to prove my value sat at the back of my mind rather than being first and foremost. I became willing to sit at the sidelines and watch as others had their own moments of growth. I was open to letting them do the growing without me. I didn't need to be their savior anymore.

Having this dear friend of mine come a year a part was one of the greatest gifts I could ever have received. A year ago she stood alongside me and told me I had the strength to fight these demons. Now, a year later, she brought me sustenance and showed me that point way off in the distance.

Look over there, don't you see how far you've come? 

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.