Life in the Kalahari

I wrote a post about medical complaints last night, but it was a bit of a bummer to write, and certainly would be more than a bummer to read. I might share it at some time, but I don’t think it would make anyone happier for me to share it now.

We packed up much of my condo, today- my parents and I, that is. It was shockingly quick work. All of my tchotchkes and Nick-nacks- my Russian matryoshki, my German and Czech crystal sets, my thrift store artwork- fit neatly in Home Depot bins. My back is sore, but my poor dad did most of the heavy lifting down the stairs. I owe him a drink. My mom dutifully helped me deep-clean the place. I’m very lucky to have parents like them. My whole life, I’ve never had to be truly alone. It makes me feel guilty that I’ll be far away as they get older. My mom has already had two hips and a shoulder replaced. I wish I could be in two places at once- Boston with Nick and LA with my parents. They’ve done so much for me- what have I given them in return?

My mom and I went to Puesto for dinner- chicken tinga tacos for her and beef birria for me, along with copious amounts of warm tortilla chips and pickled jalapeno salsa. Then, Cat and I met at Wanderlust Creamery and chatted over ice cream. Sticky mango ice for her, sesame cookies and cream for me. I’ll really miss her, and she very kindly put up with my flagging energy after a day of moving. 

This post is short, I know. I’m still rusty when it comes to writing. I worked so diligently on my novel when I was working full-time, because it was a great way to relieve stress, but now I no longer crave escapism. My creative energy has been utterly sapped, and my thoughts flow sluggishly now. My brain doesn’t like to be idle- I’ve felt myself become dumber, slower, and less articulate in real time. Hopefully, work will be a suitable whetstone to sharpen it again.

To keep my mind active, I go on Wikipedia every night, following rabbit holes to my heart’s content. I posted about Nick being an intelligent Scorpio; well, I’m a curious Gemini. I love learning and mining every new vein of discovery, especially about the groups of people that populate this earth. My aunt Catherine studied anthropology in college, and truthfully, that sounds like a dream to me. I’m reading a fascinating book right now regarding the Ju/wasi People of the Kalahari Savannah called “The Old Way”. It’s really incredible to be able to ponder what humanity was like, pre-urbanization and the rise of city-states, and to look at the way groups of hunter-gatherers survive such a precarious lifestyle. Perhaps most beautiful is how these small groups of people, who are wholly dependent on ties of kinship and one-another, treat each other with so much kindness and dignity- from the newborn babies to the village elders. Unlike in many families in the “developed” world, children and babies are doted on and soothed by the whole group, never lacking affection and love. Nobody abandons a baby to “cry it out” through the night to “toughen them up”. Matters are discussed until the group comes to a consensus- not by votes and majority rule, but by a deeper acceptance and harmony. 

So many of us feel afraid to show need, because we’re afraid of being rejected the help we’re asking for. When will we learn that we’ve evolved, as a species, to depend on each other? American culture is so terrified of weakness, of interdependence. It baffles me. Human beings aren’t meant to be silos. Why is it so radical to be vulnerable with oneself and empathetic with others? To give, to share, and to trust? Nature made us want to be this way. And yet, when we ask for assistance, we feel like burdens. We have to believe we aren’t- and we have to commit ourselves to helping others just as much.