My Time Is Not Up Yet

Last night, I felt defeat. It had been a long day at work. My back was so very sore. I was lethargic, due to lack of exercise. My heart was beating due to two too many coffees. I looked outside my office window and I saw the bleak grey clouds I am coming to expect now that Singapore is in the monsoon season of November. It is little wonder that I came home feeling as though I had reached the end, that my time in Asia had to be brought to an end, and that it was to be far easier to go back to Australia to spend my life with my family and closer to the Boy.

This afternoon, I realised that my time in Asia is not up. This afternoon I read a personal account of the friend who had fled from that child labour camp in Cambodia, whilst under the rule of the Khmer Rouge. I realised that my time in Asia was not even close to being finished. I have only just begun to see the real Asia, the unpleasant Asia, where stories of hardship cause your heart to break into pieces. What would I be giving back to the world by running and hiding in Australia? I would be closing my heart to stories such as my friend's story. I would be turning my back on the lessons I am still yet to learn about life, all because of my own selfish need for comfort and companionship.

Travelling to Bali the other week changed me - and I forgot this week just how much it changed me. Instead, this week I became consumed in my own misery and loneliness because it was easier to do so.

All along I have attributed my stay in Singapore to the need to earn lots of money to set my life up back in Australia when I return. I seemed to forget, momentarily, that rather, my time in Singapore is about getting down on my hunches and looking that sick little girl in Bali straight in the eyes and wanting to change her circumstances. It is about watching the young 13 year old boy step away to sniff glue and me wanting to shake him violently in order for him to stop. I don't want my story of Singapore to be about luxury hotels, and afternoons spent moping around alone, thinking that the world hates me.

The world doesn't hate me. Rather, the world has brought me here for a reason. I just need to always keep close to my heart those reasons and never let my own selfish needs get in the way.