Preface

Ladies and Gentlemen I am kind of proud to present to you my 4-year back and forth journey to Africa and some of the places in-between. I have compiled my emails, facebook notes, and select journals in chronological order for referencing, and back-up purposes and so those that are interested can follow my journey from beginning to the end-for-now. Re-reading much of what I wrote especially when I was 19 makes me cringe, and shiver at the way I thought, what I believed, and how I presented myself. (I am also quite aware that the cringes and shivers will never stop happening, no matter how old and incredibly wise I turn out to be.) However, I’ve decided to leave the bulk of my writings untouched as a testimony to the changes in my life. Now the posts not only document my trip, but my passage through romanticism and faith, cynicism and reality: ultimately emerging as someone altogether different.

April 22, 2007: Muddled

I’m really messy, a mega slob, everyone knows it… I hurricane through my house, my car, sometimes other people’s houses and cars, and I leave a trail, a mess of things behind, clothes, trash, accessories, belongings… and then I’m always moving on to the next thing, never looking back, never picking up after myself. It can last for days, weeks, and even months, but eventually the mess gets to be too much. People stare wide-eyed, disgusted and horrified at what I’ve allowed my room, and my car to become. I am not able to function because I can’t find anything, I have no clean clothes, and am disorganized to the point of no return. So I have to clear a day in my schedule, and sometimes that’s not even enough to do a thorough cleaning. I go through all the junk that’s piled up, and decide what to throw away, and what to keep. I can usually fill up two or three trash bags with just the garbage, and unnecessary papers I’ve accumulated. I wash everything, I organize everything, and then I’m cleansed… things are suitable for living again, and I can start building another mess the next day.

Out of my limited 19-year-old wisdom I’ve come to realize that the things I do in the physical realm repeat themselves ever so dramatically in the emotional realm. But now the things that are tossed about the floor, wasted, discarded, and abandoned to others are not so material, they are the joys of my heart, my physical health, people I’ve left unloved, the best of memories, stomach-wrenching regrets, stories without endings, and my sanity. People stare wide-eyed as my life lies strewn about from Colorado to Africa and everywhere in between wondering if the pieces of me I left behind will be kept or thrown away, washed or deserted, remembered or lost for days or forever. As the junk continues accumulating through the promises I left unfulfilled last week, to the experiences I’ve attained these last three months, to the insecurities I’ve built in the last nineteen years, I realize it’s going to take more than one day to clean up this mess. To begin to pick up the trash of my recklessness, organize my thoughts and feelings, thoroughly cleanse my vitality, so I can function again… I hope it’s not just to make another mess.
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