thetwigster

When I awoke this morning I asked my sister, “Has it really only been a week since I got back from New Orleans?”

It is mind-boggling how we can transition so quickly into new surroundings and experiences, and then return just as fast to our routine lives. Of course we return changed as we take with us our experiences, our lessons, and the marks on our hearts from the people we meet along the way, but still, it makes you wonder about life’s transient nature.

Daily, I recall my usual morning routine at the volunteer house and compare it to my current morning. By 7:30 a.m. at Lowernine.org I would begrudgingly roll out of the comfort of my bed/tent, a private “den” I created for my lower bunk bed. I tucked my large paisley scarf, unzipped sleeping bag liner, and dirty towel under the top bunk to create a refuge of privacy on the lower bunk. While it successfully created a cozy sleeping “room,” it also created a trap to stay in bed: one of my best and worst ideas.

At 7:30 this morning I was still fast asleep in my New York City apartment. There weren’t 5 volunteers bustling around my room attempting to get dressed and snag one of the 2 bathrooms (for 20 people) so they could brush their teeth. There wasn’t a volunteer on breakfast duty cooking twenty scrambled eggs for all the other volunteers. There wasn’t silt in my sheets from last night’s bonfire on the levee. My room was pitch-black, and quiet. The biggest disturbance to my slumber was Milano, my 6 pound yorkie, squeaking for me to pick him up so he can snuggle up next to me.

Both mornings are beautiful in their own right, but like I said I just can’t get fathom how quickly life can change its setting, its work, its interactions. Needless to say, I desperately miss working on the farm in the Lower Ninth Ward. I worked outside all day everyday, with my hands in the soil, dirt on my pants, and sun on my face. I miss seeing Al, a resident of the area who was rebuilding a home right across the street from the farm and whose progress I would track daily. I miss coming home to a house swarming with like-minded people, committed to making a difference not only in the Ninth Ward, but also in the expectations they have for their lives and the lives of others.

So here I am back in New York plotting my next move. Immediate plans: Peace Corps interview tomorrow. Intimidating? Yes. Once that’s out of the way this twigster needs a job so she can find her soul on the west coast. This is the beginning of a quest for a sky full of stars, and a landscape uninterrupted by buildings. I told you I was a romantic.

The twigster,

Josephine

PS: Want to hire me?