Looking Back

It's been a year today since I left Canada. I had a one way ticket to Kathmandu and the only other thing that was certain was the start of the Tour d'Afrique - January 12 - I had enrolled for. I had Pepe with me, my most faithful supporter and friend, my camera and the backpack stuffed with trekking gear and a few books. Well, there were also some old dreams and a whole bunch of fears and strengths I carried with me but I wasn't too much aware of all these.

It's been an amazing year of experiencing and learning, of discovering places and people but also discovering and learning about my own resources. I have managed slowly and with persistence to leave stress behind; to focus on big things and ignore the details when the latter were undermining the experience, the joy and learning. And, at the same time, to notice and care more about the details when they were giving more shape and meaning to the big picture. There is a fine balance to try and keep and I'm still far from mastering it.

For the first time in many years I took time to listen to my thoughts and I also let them wander. I have laughed and smiled like never before and, boy, that felt so good! It's been the best medicine and nicest gift to receive everywhere: a warm smile.

I met wonderful people and made new friends. I am confident in the strength of these friendships across time and continents. This alone is a wonderful thing.
I do feel rich and fortunate. It's a richness you can't buy and nobody can take away from you. I close my eyes and travel all over. I'm in the mountains in Nepal breathing the thin air or resting my gaze on the green rice terraces. I am walking through the mist in South Africa or exploring the dry, hot desert in Sudan; I am climbing the Big Wall in China or listening to a gospel song in Zambia; listening to the drums in Tanzania or watching the fishermen floating in their nutshell-boats on Lake Malawi. And those are just a few examples.

There is a good or positive aspect in everything. And there is always something to be grateful for, even if it's only the lesson learned or the scar left as a precious reminder. Having a scar ultimately means still being alive. (Plus, I discovered, unless left with a scar people do not remember or learn a lesson.)

I am, in all honesty, grateful to my ex-husband for giving me the opportunity to experience all this and to learn more about my strengths and fears.