2 months of a tortoise lifestyle: carrying our house with us – living and moving in it; sleeping on it. The shell does not grow, cannot grow, so stuff cannot grow – rather – we prefer for it to shrink. Lots of growing happening all the time – growing on the inside: learning to live with 3 other people 24/7 – no place to go, except for the odd occasion when it is possible to withdraw for a brief period of time.
Lots of growing: 4 people sharing a confined space with a dog; sharing bitter cold and not yet sweltering heat, dust, weariness, monotony of a desert road disappearing in a hazy mirage, hunger, thirst, potty breaks on the side of the road, sunrises, sunsets, not being able to shower for several days, spectacular beauty of nature, the surprise of a first-time-seen bird, the excitement of a new city, the befuddlement caused by cultural differences, the curiosity of a next campsite…the satisfaction of a wonderful meal or an ice cold drink, the simple joy of a hot shower, a flushing toilet, running water, enjoying the lavish hospitality bestowed on us by the friends we’ve visited on our way.
4 people sharing good and bad news, excitements and disappointments, happy and foul moods, laughter and temper tantrums, encouragements and discouragements, joy and sadness, mood swings, fun and not fun,
4 people sharing life intimately and intensely;
4 people growing on the inside;
4 people growing together, closer together or further apart…
Life has become complicatedly simple: reduced to survival in a good way – content with a good night’s rest, thankful for safety during the night and on the road; for health, for food – however simple, for something to drink – regardless of the sugar or carbonate content; continuously appreciative of new places, sights, sounds, incredible opportunities, experiences; acceptance(without an attitude) of discomfort, being sweaty and smelly, not so clean bathrooms, toilets, campsites, dust and sand – sometimes even in your food; of the moods of the others; willing to humble yourself and say you are sorry, or you’ve made a mistake.
So, how am I doing with all of these 2 months into this journey?
Physically: I no longer look like a rinsed-in-Chlorox(Jik)- sheet. The Middle-Eastern sun has decked my skin with a healthy golden tinted glow.
Health: I still enjoy taking my anti-depressants, blood pressure and thyroid medication and am glad that I have enough to last the trip. I’ve taken an extreme step forwards in that I’ve not used any sleep medication since we left on the 19 January! I continue to be amazed when I wake up in the morning when I realize that I’ve slept another night. This by far it is one of the biggest miracles after struggling with a sleep disturbance for 40+ years!
Emotionally: Rollercoaster…not the X-treme rides anymore…the kind brave kindergarteners can enjoy: some days good and other days not so good. I am without a doubt of sounder mind and my tolerance for stress has improved – some days I think only marginally, but I may be too hard on myself. My biggest surprise? I’ve not realized how stuck in my ways and thinking I’ve become and molds that have started to solidify around me are shattered on a daily base: rigidity, comfort, habits, routine. None of them were bad molds and when I needed it they’ve served as anchors, but setting too tightly in them has made me more inflexible than in the past, making it more difficult for me to cope with change and uncertainty. I’ve prided myself in the past on being flexible, easy to cope with change, being able to weather high stress. I know my stress-tolerance has been compromised after my depression and increasingly more so during the last 5 years as menopause dipped into my reserves as well.
Daily anxiety was part of my life for the last 4 years: a result of almost chronic stress caused by a sad and difficult life event, aggravated by hormonal imbalance and emotional instability. The 6 weeks of uncertainty about our Syrian visa played into perpetuating the anxiety. Crossing borders during the years of traveling always triggered angst, so crossing borders, even in Europe exacerbated stress. What a basket case I will be after crossing 25 borders? As we settled into a daily routine of traveling, I gradually got better. I made a conscious decision to not allow finding a camping spot when we bush camp to upset me as much as it did in the beginning. As for crossing borders: Hungary into Serbia was bad; Serbia into Bulgaria was better; Bulgaria into Turkey was actually not bad; Turkey into Syria: quite horrible since the boys were turned back; the second time was better, because I knew what to expect; Syria into Jordan and Jordan into Egypt really good…Progress! Then I totally derailed when we realized the door for Sudanese visas are shut …I became a pulpy, paralyzed mess – especially when our friends, the Brits breezed through the process. Each one of us 4 had a different response:
Andrej shared a miniscule degree in my stress. He grew quiet – very quiet, especially when we were in the Sudanese embassy. He practiced the power of positive thinking, and affirmation and managed to talk himself into believing it will eventually work out.
Willie was mightily stressed which is probably the reason why I lost it so bad. By nature Willie is positive and will explore every possible avenue before he will accept that something will not work. When we went to the Sudanese embassy, Willie was not going to leave without a visa…we did leave without one after having had an opportunity to explain our situation to a “big boss” who knew the procedures. Closed door! Willie not only carries the responsibility for our well-being, but also for the vehicle, planning our trip, finding decent, safe campsites – and on the side dealing with our container crisis in Namibia - responsibilities which do not lighten, so encountering a set-back like this does take its toll.
I would have liked to better support him especially by not reacting to his stress reaction, but I really struggle to do that. I know in my mind what I want to do, but my response was so far from that.
Hugo: I am mystified by his response to these kinds of situations. There is an acceptance of what life hands out and I do not think his blood pressure raised a fraction. I asked him to explain to me what the process, taking place inside of him, is. His first answer was a question to me, “What is the worst that can happen? No one is dead or injured, right? How will obsessively fretting about it change anything? The worst is that we do not obtain a visa and since Libya is unpardonable for traveling at the moment, as is Somalia (our alternative options!) we can sell the car and fly back to Namibia!” Well that is exactly the heart of my fears…for Hugo that is then exactly what needs to happen…?
How different we are? How different do we process and internalize? How intricately and wonderfully fearful we are made? That is where I will stop for now.
Spiritually: as our journey home continues, so does my journey with God. I am given countless opportunities to trust God with our daily life and experiences. Some days I do better…I recognize the opportunity, appropriate it, rest in His provision and enjoy the peace. Other times I struggle, I fret, I worry…Years ago we had a South African/Namibian long distance athlete with the most uncomfortable running style: he looked as if he was going to trip and fall over his own feet every step, but he never did and he was champion for his distance for several years. His nickname was: “Loop-en-val” – Run-and-fall. My race reminds me of Loop-en-val often. Encouraging for me is that, even though I stumble, even though I fall, I do see progress and I pray that I will continue to look at the process and not be weighed down by the failures, which is where my melancholic disposition wants to camp.
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