Author: erinwrote

on disappointment

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One strength that comes with age, to my utter satisfaction, is the diminishing of Fears of Unusual Proportion. Those situations or conversations that years before might’ve rendered you weak in the knees with stomach in knots are now set in relief against such a breadth of life experience that their power over you is a fraction of what it used to be. That’s not to say the fear is eviscerated. I think that only comes after a lifetime of transcendental meditation, or the sudden bequeathal of super hero powers; I’ve achieved neither. In fact, I’ve noticed that old fears are simply replaced with newer ones, the latter more concerned with community than ego, with inner well-being than with outward presentation. Nevertheless, difficult conversations and weighty responsibilities are more and more the things I push through, small prices for a career, or growth in relationship, or simply growing up. Yet when it comes to conquering one particular fear, I may be a late bloomer: The fear of disappointing others. Last week I had a triple-threat lesson in this particular theme, …

on winter in the Horn

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‘Tis the season here in Somaliland: winter winds, chilly temperatures, and thick layers of morning fog all around. It’s enough to keep you in bed much later than you intended. Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for this moment; last winter surprised and delighted me, cold weather devotee that I am. I hadn’t imagined I would wrap up in sweaters or pull on socks in this relatively arid climate – camels, cacti and wool hats seemed like unlikely pairings. But here we are again, and I’m doing my best to take full advantage. Thanks to later dawns and earlier sunsets, I snuggle in bed as long as I can. Breakfast under cover (quite literally) has become a beloved ritual. When I manage to peel myself off the mattress, a polite but impatient (canine) spirit awaits me, ready to charge the clouds of fog and greet the day. (Don’t let her fool you, though–given the right bedding she’s as lazy as they come). Winter morning walks in our neighborhood are truly stunning, once you shake off the …

on a potluck

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I left my first job in Somaliland last week, to join a different organization just down the road. Serendipitously, my last day at the old gig coincided with the US Thanksgiving holiday, so all my gratitude was thrown into one bucket. To celebrate, our office hosted a lunch potluck. Some were concerned that things wouldn’t go off well, given this was an unknown holiday (by the majority) and a new dining concept (potluck). In the end, though, things went swimmingly, staff brought mountains of food, and we indulged to our hearts’ content: Somali classics, Ethiopian loaners, American standards, pizza and burgers (but of course@),  and more. Appropriately, this post is an ode to gratitude, for a number of things perhaps elementary but also fundamental. Work | For employment, period; for a relatively seamless and drama-free transition; for 9-to-5s and side projects alike; for the organic relationships that grow from contrived collaboration and the friendships that develop among colleagues. Love | For the give-and-take, for the patience, learning, and maturing that emerges inevitably (though not always painlessly) from being in loving …