I’m relearning, and it is happening slowly, but it is happening. The hours spent writing and revising are now free and finding their way to the people around me. I didn’t realize how much I was missing when my nose was stuck in my laptop. I mean, I did. It is no fun watching people play and feeling like the one sitting on the fence at recess, but you get what I’m saying.
Surprisingly, my camera has surfaced very little in the past few weeks. With all of this time on my hands, I’ve been practicing harmonica and reading and staying up past my bedtime for late night discussions. (A side note about the harmonica: you should know before you begin playing that with all of the inhaling and exhaling that you’ll get unbelievably lightheaded and maybe pass out. I haven’t exactly figured out how to get around this, and I’m generally terrible at this instrument, but time is my friend, right?)
I took the photos above in San Andreas Xecul, a little city not too far from Xela a couple months ago. We spent an afternoon walking the streets, chatting with little kids who squealed at having their photos taken and demanded to see them immediately after. The spontaneous giggles and snorts that the kids couldn’t hold in reminded me that there are things I’ve missed in the last year. Oh, the things I overlooked while being so singly focused on school. It is embarrassing to admit, and I hate to imagine all the times I kept walking or internally sighed when a child wanted my attention- or a friend. I never ignored anyone intentionally, but I wonder, who did I not see? Where was I blind? What opportunities to love did I miss? It feels like a failing of sorts, not being present enough to embrace those around me. There’s nothing to be done, except move forward with resolution.
And so, I begin again- committed to seeing and searching and loving.