Sometimes I think of my nearly two years here as nothing but one big lesson.
The lesson is this: Make plans, but recognize that planning is just something to keep you busy, a hobby of sorts. Don't take your plans seriously. (As my housekeeper Hafida would say, "My God has a plan for you." Perhaps this is true, but if so, "her" God isn't letting me in on that plan at all.) Don't get attached (to plans, to friends, to the past or future, or to anything else). The idea that one can have control is an illusion, and attachment to that illusion brings nothing but unhappiness. (Funny that I should come to a Muslim country to learn a seemingly Buddhist lesson.)
This lesson has been driven home in a variety of ways, some of them quite painful, over the last couple of weeks, as if Morocco is afraid I might not "get it" before I head out on June 9--regardless of whether or not I'm coming back.
This morning, for example, T and I are sitting on our couch when we thought we'd be (scratch that--planned to be) halfway to Al Hoceima for a four-day vacation in honor of our June 1 tenth wedding anniversary (and because we have just a few more days together before I leave for at least two months).
Planning this trip has been fairly typical; for example, even yesterday, we were still trying to confirm our car rental. We asked the guy to bring the car to us this morning at 8:30, hoping that meant we'd have it by 10. He called at 8:30 to say the car hadn't yet been returned to him, and we haven't heard from him since. Our residence manager and security officer are trying to help get us a car, but I have accepted that it just might not happen. We'll probably get one by tomorrow, so we might just have to cut our trip short by one day. But it's likely this isn't the last thing that will happen to remind us of The Lesson.
My colleague from my time in Liberia and I often say: nothing can get us worked up now because Liberia crushed our spirits so. And while that's a negative twist on it, it's rather true. Nothing ever worked like it was supposed to, and what I learned is such a wonderful lesson of letting go. I was commenting on somebody else's blog about the intersection of "inshallah" and Buddhism and I think you are saying the same here.
ReplyDeleteOnce I had worked so hard to plan a very important forum with 150 participants. Then I got malaria, making me not only feverish but also a little hallucinatory. OK, no problem, I can handle this. Then about an hour in, it began raining. Hard. Then leaking through the roof, then flooding, then electricity went out. By this point, colleague and I were on the balcony laughing in utter hysteria. We were so far gone, we could not even formulate a plan. And you know, all those Liberians worked together to make everything happen and move forward in a way that worked amazingly well. Better than I could have done. And I think that moment - after thousands of such moments - reconfigured my life.
I also think of planning as a hobby now. I enjoy it, but it's as worthless as collecting stamps.
NOLA, that is an excellent story.
DeleteWe have finally given up on trying to leave today and are shifting our plans by a day. In a little bit, T is going to Azrou with a Moroccan friend to try to get a car. He tells me he's not coming home until he finds one, so I'm worried I may never see him again. :-)
"My first husband was a wonderful man, but he never did find a car ..."
Delete