My face is dripping with sweat. I can see the droplets falling from my forehead, past my eyes and hitting the ground in that movie kinda way when everything is in slow motion and if that bead of sweat hits the ground then it's game over! Well luckily my life is no Hollywood movie and those beads of sweat signify the start of the game, rather than the end. The game being tennis!
The EWB is stood opposite me, racquet in hand, grimace on face. I'm around 20ft away sliding across the floor in my house flip-flops trying to catch the glass that has just been hit by the tennis ball, but also aware that if I get too close and miss then the glass will shatter over my bare feet. Two seconds later I let out a huge roar of laughter as the glass smashes into hundreds of tiny pieces and we agree that maybe we should have moved the glasses into the kitchen and shut the door before playing tennis in the house. After all we had only purchased the six (now five) new glasses three days earlier.
Despite the glass shattering results of our afternoon antics, the buzz from our spontaneous indoor tennis workout could be felt around our new home for hours after. I passed from room to room hammering nails into walls with no precision and power, but utter delight when the curtains and paintings I was hanging stayed up. Even when one set fell down, almost into the open flame of the gas stove, it was no big deal! Even when I realised that the seamstress I had asked to turn our cloth into curtains had 'taken' one yard, which means as a result our main room curtains flap around like a ships sail and conceal nothing of what they are supposed to, it was frustrating, but somehow understandable, after all we had chosen beautiful cloth who wouldn't want some for themself. So, the buzz. The buzz of life being lived. The buzz of life being healthy. The buzz of life being valued. The buzz of hormones. The buzz of here and now. The buzz of energy. The buzz of addiction. As a result of three days of running, push-biking and tennis playing, as well as chopping healthy home-cooked meals, the EWB and I have well and truly caught the buzz. We have made a vow to lift the weights and experience the buzz as often as possible, because with it comes the clarity and knowing of a free mind that I haven't experienced in a long time.
In one month the weights that are digging into my shoulders will be lifted, as the ending of this VSO chapter arrives. There will be no cliff-hanger ending as the page turns. The reader will be left with a sense that all loose ends have been wrapped up. Yet there will be a sense of excitement and intrigue, because if everything that has come before is finalised and complete then what is next. That blank canvas is yet to be written...
And so in order to start the turning of the page on this chapter I need to take some ownership for how my placement has turned out over the past eight months. In recent posts the underlying trench of blame that lies beneath each and every word is heartfelt, but not wholly justified. I have been so quick to aim the arrow of anger, frustration and lack of motivation at VSO, my colleagues at GES and people in general that I have not opened my eyes to look at myself. I too am to blame for the fact I stayed in the dark place for so long and didn't start the process of escape sooner. I am to blame for not releasing my mind and heart to Ghana. I am to blame for closing myself off to things that, in my eyes, weren't working. But for whatever reason I am being given a second chance. I have found myself blanketed by positivity, hope and the buzz and this time around I will cling to that and let that drive my head and heart. And when those dark clouds come, which they will, my aim will be to not run as I have done before, but to ground myself, pick up those weights and get lifting! After all, what will I have to show for my life if I just keep running!
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