Some things are worth it to fly half a world for.
Last weekend was one of those.Every year a group of friends from university (actually, from my student association) get together for a weekend of fun, talking, games, good food, beer, having water fights, beer, swapping stories, going to bed late, screaming, shouting, swearing and beer.
I was supposed to have missed it; my original flight was to arrive halfway through July, just too late to attend. But I was getting tired of traveling, and I needed to buy a new flight to Peru anyway (and two-way flights are only marginally more expensive than one-way flights). So I booked a new flight from South America, arriving home a month earlier than originally planned. In time for this weekend.
And it was absolutely great being there! We talked and played games and shouted and drank beer and had great food and played some more games (with a beer) and had a marvelous time.
The problem was: Which fun to choose? Play a game with the guys over there? Join in the conversation here? Help with the cooking in the kitchen? Have a deep one-on-one talk with someone I haven’t seen for a year? Join in the laughter and merriment that the group close by is having?
Yes, they wanted to meet with me! Actually, I had a meeting that same afternoon and though we’re not sure what sort of form it should take, they would be very interested in working together. Yay!
Very un-zen, not being present in what I’m enjoying right now, only to be thinking about all the other things that I could also choose.
I’ve had this feeling every year we went. But only now I became acutely aware of it. Not that that helps of course. But I guess it is as start. Or perhaps it is more zen to accept that I’m not particularly zen? I need to work on it, but perhaps I can make it into a koan…