A week ago, I lay in my bedroom- who am I kidding? My bedroom is the entirety of my home at the moment- and discovered that I was not alone. Cockroaches had invaded. A killing spree ensued.
A week later, I walked on the beach, letting the water lap at my feet, and thought to myself, “I could get used to this.” The take away of this week was indeed that I am not alone.
It seems that sometimes just one person reaching out can change things.
My work here has been a shift in many ways. I am not located in one central place. I’m working with adults in addition to children. I’m working with a high population of children with autism. There have been moments when I have been excited by this. There are others when I’ve wanted to cry because I’ve been so lost. The other day a speech therapist connected with me as I was walking into a session that was particularly challenging for me. Her advice and guidance shifted my day entirely. I found myself tearing up, not because I was lost, but because I was so grateful for the kindness extended.
She has continued to take me under her wings, empathizing with me about the challenges of moving someplace new, showing me some new places to explore, and on Thursday, inviting me to her place to watch contemporary dance lessons on youtube, as we giddily made fools of ourselves trying to learn the steps. Sometimes the most beautiful thing you can do on a tropical island is sit with a friend and laugh.
It’s nice to start to feel more connected here. I’ve been able to talk to more therapists to learn about how the system here works. I’ve learned more about what brings people to this country. I’ve learned more about how healthcare works, and how that affects the people here. These are the parts of traveling that I love. The world is too big a place to believe that our tiny part of it is everything.
So I continue on, reaching out, grabbing the hands of others when they reach back. While this world is indeed big, I’m doing my best to span the distance. Perhaps one person at a time.