What the hell is wrong with us? As a race.

Ok just maybe as a privileged white female from the best country in the world who has all the choice before her and nothing, literally NO THINGS, to complain about.

What the hell is wrong with me? I mean, the list could be quite lengthy:

– I laugh at funerals

– I regularly talk to strangers

– I pet street cats in foreign countries

– I sing out loud and don’t care that I have a complete lack of talent

– Some might say I drive too fast

Ok. That’s enough. And beside the point. What I am getting at is my personal tendency to backslide into negativity.

I say “my personal tendency” because I am not going to call out people around me. Let me just say, I notice it a lot in a lot others as well. It’s an easy state to live in.

I blame my mother. She was famously negative. People who met her would say, “Oh, Kathi, what are you talking about, your mother was lovely.”

Yah. So am I when I’m around people but trust me, when you live with it, it’s not so pretty. I can blame a lot of other things as well. It’s hard to stay positive all the time. HARD! Why????

I am thinking on this today because I have been ANNOYINGLY jaded of late as regards my current level of tolerance. It’s January sure, but I was also feeling like Eyore back in November.

Let’s face it, this day to day contract we live on with the Universe doesn’t stop for glum months. We gotta grab this life by the balls. We need to be firmly in charge of our thoughts on all days, not just the sunny ones. (Which is a funny statement because it is sunny in my life about 300 days a year.)

I have been working with a professional coach for over a year. I love her and I love the process. I have noticed so many changes in this time. Not the least of which is that she has been with me on the journey to get off my anti-depressants.

A big goal of coaching is to train the client (that’s me) to become their own coach. To learn the tools I need to use and how to use them, when I recognize certain patterns coming up. So when I am paralyzed by in action due to fear, I can now walk myself through that and move on. This is good. I have become pretty good at recognizing my own thoughts and then working to correct that. To self balance my chakras. To ground myself.

So here I am and desperately needing a break on the “outside” which is coming soon as I head off to Poland next week to meet a friend for 10 days. But it doesn’t change the thoughts that are crowding my brain. Annoying me. That I am working to move past.

Let me demonstrate.

Then: When I first moved to Morocco I was so fascinated by the traffic movements that I wrote this post about crossing the street.

Now: Everytime I cross the street and someone comes at me without slowing down I have a whole script I mutter internally. “I’m a human being in my rightful crosswalk and you are going to get where, how much faster, if you run me over you crazy fuck?”

Option: Accept that crossing the street, horns honking the SECOND the light changes, and having the stop light manage only half a crosswalk are the norm.

I choose to live here. I am guest. An immigrant. Not an overly privileged white colonialist expat, but an immigrant.

Then: I was so enamoured with the beautiful people I was meeting and encountering on my first trip here that I wrote this article on them.

Now: Reality dictates that a lot of men here have ulterior motives when it comes to western women.

Option: I am a highly intelligent, fully aware, adult woman who will not lose my mind and give away all my money and start sponsoring people to come to my country just because they bat their eyes at me.

I am fully able to make the distinction between people with true hearts and people with bad ideas and I can navigate the world successfully which means I can say hello to people and have a discussion without falling married at the end of it.

I used to be fascinated by taxis and now I will literally not follow through with plans if I am not in the mood to deal with the shit that comes with taxi taking.

I used to find it fascinating that so many people are required to complete one task, and now the inefficiency can make me insane.

Why?

I used to be so charmed that you can do simple things without all the western fanfare, and now I see this speed bump and I start to rail against the poor educational system that doesn’t even nod to critical thinking or strategic planning and forethought.

So is it time to move?

Hell no.

It might be time to realign my time. To spend more time outside Marrakech, get into the countryside and the south where the heart of this country beats strong and true.

It’s time for me to go outside and spend 10 days travelling in a new country with a completely different focus.

It’s time for me to notice the good around me and stop being so quick to judge.

How did I get to this little rant?

I was at the gym this afternoon. I was putting on some pants post workout and a girl came along to the locker next to mine. Jostling and movement happened.

I put my water bottle into my pack and she asked me something in fast French. Didn’t understand. And honestly, I had my back up. My internal dialogue kicks in.

“What the fuck does she want? Am I going to have to punch her? Does she want me to give her my water bottle? Does she want a sip of water? From my bottle? What’s happening?”

She switches kindly to very proficient English. Because she speaks four languages and I, ignorantly, speak one.

She asked if it was just water or a mix. I said it was a mix. “What is it for? Is it to lose weight?”

Oh….she’s a really nice girl, clearly educated, sincerely making conversation. Whoa.

So we talked about pre-workout. Where to get it, what it’s called, how it works, how to mix it. What it’s good for. I googled some things, she made some notes in her phone.

It was lovely. We had a really nice conversation. She was very sweet.

At the end, as I was leaving and saying goodbye, she said something that is pretty common syntax for Moroccan native Arabic speakers who also know French and are now speaking in English.

She said “thanks you, thanks for you.”

No darlin’. No. Thanks for you.