I got a postcard today.
Just as I'd laid my forehead down on my desk, in frustration at a series of distressing events that made me wonder again why I'm doing what I'm doing. A series of distressing events today in a long line of frustrating weeks turned into three months that have curbed my motivation to write.
I glanced at the picture before quickly turning it around to read the penciled words hand-written just for me.
What motivates someone who I have not seen in 11 years, who I have only had one real conversation with in those 11 years, to take the time to send me a postcard all the way from Alaska? How does it happen that someone I barely knew in high school and even barely know anything about now would send a colorful piece of cardboard through many planes, over an ocean and desert on which is written two sentences that would inspire me to publish a post tonight?
Alaska. Written underneath a beautiful twilight scene of an igloo, warm light emanating from within, as if it was the coziest place on earth, and mountains as the backdrop. I had now taken time to study the front of the postcard after reading the handwritten note a few times.
Alaska. What an opposite environment to the current one where snow, ice and mountains are only rumors and legend to Nigeriens. I pondered the irony of a home made with snow bricks looking so very similar to those made with mud bricks here...which led to marveling once again at the incredible resiliency of humans and their capacity to live in extreme circumstances all over the world. (Also on my mind because my housemates and I watched an episode of the BBC's Human Planet last night - the oceans one - where we saw a man who can hunt underwater, sinking 20 meters and walking along the bottom as if he he was on land, holding his breath for 5+ minutes as if it all were nothing)
I showed the picture to a Nigerien colleague sitting at the desk next to me and tried to explain a house made with snow/ice bricks. His wonder only deepened mine. I read the note a few more times, strangely not feeling so frustrated anymore...the days/weeks/months worries seemed a bit more manageable. Carried it home with me and stared at the picture for a long time, reflecting on life, friendship, paths, connections. Strangely not wondering anymore why I'm doing what I'm doing.
A high school friend. Eleven years. Thousands of miles. Opposite environments. Two sentences. Coziest place on earth. Right here.
