Our Greatest Weakness

I've returned from Calcutta, India and my eyes are tired. My brain is overwhelmed. And I wonder how this life connects with the one I had there.

I could go on and on about all the luxuries we have here that aren't a necessity there, but I knew that before I got there. I could explain the pollution, the heat, or even my mission for going but I'm sure there's numerous books that have all been written touching on these.

I'd rather explain the uncomfortable, not at ease, restless and vulnerable state I spent the whole trip trying to run from.

I realized here in America we do everything we possibly can to feel safe, secure, and comfortable. We have our car alarms, city police, seatbelts, laws, research to tell us we're doing it right, sidewalks, personal space, health codes, traffic rules, big soft beds, and machines to do most of our work for us. All of these things can't be found in India.

I was prepared for a degree of culture shock, but I just wasn't ready to have my safe and secure feelings of comfortability to be constantly invaded. I'm not even talking about physical comfortability anymore. Sure, it was freakin hot (in the low 100s) and my bed was really hard and it sucked doing laundry by hand. But what I experienced was the invasion into my being.

I first had these feelings when I noticed I was being stared at like I had a deformity. White skin and blonde hair stand out without a doubt, a feeling that's foreign to me. Here in America we're used to looking at staring eyes and after contact is made they look away real fast to pretend as if they didn't exist. In India, the staring eyes just keeps staring and the facial expression remains neutral.

My personal bubble was also continually invaded considering that the streets are lined with beggars that flock to see what tourists have to give. They grab your hand, hang on to your bag, and find their way to your line of your vision so you conciously make the decision to keep walking.

As the trip went on we became aware of the scam artists. One wanted our picture at the ATM to steal our credit card number, another wanted us to buy them food so they could just sell it back and keep the money, the cab drivers charged us more than the meters, the little kid kept pointing out his cuts and scrapes so we would give him money, mothers would introduce us to their babies that may or may not have even been theirs, and some of the beggars are known to be working for someone else.

Who were you supposed to trust when you're this vulnerable? It definitely wasn't the drunk homeless man who forced himself on me and gave me an unexpected kiss on the street or even the man driving the auto rickshaw who tried to see how far he could get his hand up my leg. I felt my innocence robbed and more than personal space was invaded.

I spent the rest of the trip just trying to escape these vulnerabilities. Usually in America we can find shelter somewhere close by. But I looked and looked and exhausted myself trying to find it.

The goal of any trip outside the country is to experience culture, live like the locals, and understand the people. It was this thought that I found the connection between the two worlds.

The people of India are vulnerable. Looking for security. Longing to be comfortable. Seeking shelter. And what I experienced was just a small glimpse into their lives.

I was ready to come back to the states, yet I didn't want to leave. I wanted to give my mind a rest in constantly evaluating what was safe and what wasn't. I longed for my personal bubble to be returned. Yet, I wanted to keep learning what its like to live in a constant state of vulnerability...probably our greatest weakness yet our greatest moments of learning and seeing more than we ever thought we could.

-meg

I want to be your Partner

part.ner.ship (n.)
a cooperative relationship between people or groups who agree to share responsibility for achieving some specific goal.

A definition I should have taped to my forehead for the whole month of April. This word didn't even come to me until it was all said and done.

But I want to be a partner.

There may be a better word...A more classy or sophisticated one, but this just seems to fit.

The whole month of April was a whirlwind. One hot mess. Maybe one of the hardest months to get through. But somehow its May now and it all just seems like a blur.

I struggled more than I ever have.
Struggled for attention...Yet I wanted to be supportive.
Begged for a time out so we could have just a breather...but there just was no room for it.

I didn't want to be forgotten in the all the mass of responsibilities, but I also wanted to do whatever I could to be the one that could be counted on.
I wanted to be a strong framework that could take it all and hold up ok, but sometimes I just cracked. And it wasn't fair. But I did. I found myself unable to adjust to the lacking time commitment, attention span, and in the peripheral vision for the moment being.

Let's just say I got a small glimpse into the life any person who supports the one they love in their trail to success. Many came to mind such as my mother and even the boss I worked for in high school. A support system that I began to understand incredibly more so than ever. Strength on the outside. Desperation on the inside.

Opportunities are what we all keep our eye out for and when one lands in our lap, it's stupid not to take it. But saying the word "yes" sometimes brings much more than we could ever imagine. The stress, the lost sleep, the nights we stay up worried sick, the blinded sight of knowing what's to come. Many times I wanted to quit. Throw in the towel. Not be responsible.

I'm not sure how much more detail to go into. I just wanted to share the thought that I've fought a month long battle of selfishness and selflessness. Crying to not be forgotten...and being a #1 fan.

I actually remember driving one day in one of the deepest moments of this struggle and I found my stress level to be almost twice as high. And when I wondered why, it seemed to be because I took on another's stress along with MY normal amount. So my thought was...I don't want this. I have enough on my own so why double it? It'd be way easier to just deal with my own and delete the extra. Why would anyone sign up for this? Commit to it? Trudge through it until the end of time?

And I realized that this was probably the main point of it all. To be a partner.

Maybe we need each other, and just maybe this is what its like to take a vow.

Even though it seemed like hell through it all, I thank God for The Flop. It probably will make me a better adult than I ever thought it would.

-meg