Somewhere out there
This past Monday was Labor Day, and after a weekend full of friends and fun, my introverted self was content to lie on my couch all day with the windows open to let the sound of the rain come through. I watched Motorcycle Diaries for the second time. The first time I watched it several years ago, I don't think I was paying attention.
I have a few friends, mostly male, that claim it's their favorite movie. I think I agree with them now. I'm emotional to begin with, but put a beautiful movie that conveys a profound and good message in front of me, and it's over. I'll think about it for days, or forever.
It makes sense that films on social justice would move me, especially when they take place in other countries. My heart has always yearned to be a part of helping those that need it most. I've traveled quite a bit and seen poverty in various places. It's life-changing, and somehow, I always end up back on my couch.
I shouldn't feel bad for having the life that I have, but every now and then, when I imagine myself older, I'm with people whose skin is darker than mine (this is not a hard task considering I'm one shade darker than albino), there's dirt on my feet and under my nails, lush and green foliage around me, beautiful mountains off in the distance, water dripping off of leaves after a rainstorm. I'm thinner, happier. I can't explain it, but it's there and the vision won't go away.
The scene is similar to places I've been before- Belize, South Africa, Mexico, and I wonder if I'm supposed to go back there or somewhere new. Would I be gone for long? Months? Years?
***
It's always bothered me when people say they want to help people in other countries when they do little to help those in need in their current location. It's easy to think, if you were pulled from your environment, you'd be nicer, more giving than you are. I sometimes believe that lie, that somewhere, out in the future and far away, there is a version of me that I can live with everyday. Not this version that gets annoyed, infuriated rather, when people drive too slowly in front of me or when my photos won't load more quickly on Facebook, these being the least of my misgivings.
I have a few friends, mostly male, that claim it's their favorite movie. I think I agree with them now. I'm emotional to begin with, but put a beautiful movie that conveys a profound and good message in front of me, and it's over. I'll think about it for days, or forever.
It makes sense that films on social justice would move me, especially when they take place in other countries. My heart has always yearned to be a part of helping those that need it most. I've traveled quite a bit and seen poverty in various places. It's life-changing, and somehow, I always end up back on my couch.
I shouldn't feel bad for having the life that I have, but every now and then, when I imagine myself older, I'm with people whose skin is darker than mine (this is not a hard task considering I'm one shade darker than albino), there's dirt on my feet and under my nails, lush and green foliage around me, beautiful mountains off in the distance, water dripping off of leaves after a rainstorm. I'm thinner, happier. I can't explain it, but it's there and the vision won't go away.
The scene is similar to places I've been before- Belize, South Africa, Mexico, and I wonder if I'm supposed to go back there or somewhere new. Would I be gone for long? Months? Years?
***
It's always bothered me when people say they want to help people in other countries when they do little to help those in need in their current location. It's easy to think, if you were pulled from your environment, you'd be nicer, more giving than you are. I sometimes believe that lie, that somewhere, out in the future and far away, there is a version of me that I can live with everyday. Not this version that gets annoyed, infuriated rather, when people drive too slowly in front of me or when my photos won't load more quickly on Facebook, these being the least of my misgivings.