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I started to feel better when I stopped fighting; when I stopped being angry, let myself relax into the surrounding darkness and those feverish dreams I was having about a big earthquake destroying all our homes and everyone waiting outside the rubble, barefoot, holding on to their children and whatever they could grab hold of as they ran out of their homes. Their faces like chipped cups. All in unison they would look up at the night sky as the moon hid itself behind a cloud and Brad and I still asleep inside our home while the earth continued to shake. Brad said it was the sleeping pills I was taking to help me get the much needed rest while I fought off the flu for four days. I slept, but I saw the end of something. And then on Thursday when I was supposed to drive to Patzún to meet with a youth group, I could barely make it out of bed, so I had to tell them through my horrible coughing and sneezing that I wasn’t going to make it. It was painful to admit it. Feebly I said to the organizer, “How about you Skype me in?”. We laughed. Espero que se sienta mejor, “Please feel better,” he said warmly. At 9 AM I hung up the phone. At 11 AM I was in front of thirty children over Skype talking about citizen journalism and teaching them how to become reporters:
Things happen when they happen. This past week was an emergency break for me to slow down, reflect and be mindful. Many changes are about to happen with our drive back home and it’s important to be present.
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