I seemed to have lost my voice and my way in the world. Anyone have any suggestions on how to regain it??
An excerpt from The Asian Quest blog when I had my voice:
I have my friends and family to thank for pulling me out of my pathetic, privileged, depression and over-introspection of the meaning of MY life while creating space for this new normalcy. It took seven weeks of an internal quarrel to realize that asking the meaning of MY life was not the right question. It was the egocentric question that we are taught to ask. Pray about. Teach about. Preach about. Read about. Talk about. Slit wrists over, starve over, get high over, binge over. It is a selfish, lonely question. Pulling the camera out of my bag that day and leaving it on the bed gave me nothing to hide behind. Nothing to create a wall. Nothing to make me different. All of the sudden, I could see the whole picture, and although I still didn’t have the answers, somehow I know knew the question to ask was "what is the meaning of life?" Exclusive turned inclusive. Answers were right in front of my. Every day. Every night. Every moment. Changing the question meant that I could share laughs, and smiles, and love and tenderness with strangers. I became a character in the photos. I became part of the memories and stories. I found new places and talked to travelers from around the world. I got drunk on Chilean wine on the roof of a Swiss hotel in Cambodia while learning and relearning and learning, yet again, how to attempt to say one word in Khmer from the female bartender “សន្តិភាព,” which means peace. At the market, my green eyes met the soulful brown eyes of the woman selling fish…and she laughed with me. I ate sour beans dipped in msg with the young, pregnant manager of Jed’s Bar. And finally, we could recognize our exotic differences and obvious similarities. And we could laugh at them all.