Try living without. I think it would be a good idea, whoever you might be. Go without the food you are accustomed to having, both in preference and convenience. Go without those you love, leave them where you cannot chance to hug or kiss them. Go without the comfortable trappings of your life, the minutia that are not perceived when they encompass us but dearly missed when absent. Even if you don't think you need this kind of change, it will be useful.
To find that I, a foolish boy who figured himself sufficiently independent of the details of his life, have butted up against the dreary realization of a foreign land and it's lack of all things familiar and cozy is gratifying. Absence makes the heart dwell longer, excited for the new light of old commodities. Taking for granted the worn callouses of home is a sad prospect that is not worth indulging. Food must taste as satisfying as after a hard day's work and the thankful lack of bloated meals. Return to family, friends and the arms of a lover is opportunity wasted when not treated each time as returns from a long journey. A lazy weekend must be an utter delight because it is dogged by the week during which joy is wrought from accomplishment.
Most remarkable is the weight which is endowed by these thoughts on the present. For once I am ushered away from this African soil, should its absence not sink in my mind just the same? Bereft of the ever present march of elephant through the mopane forest, the endless flights of the giant maribou storks and even the constant periphery of mostly invisible but vocal lion prides, I will begin to drift back to Botswana on longing thoughts. For the expectation of this I am enjoying myself all the more. These reflections only seem, to me, to add to the constant argument inherent in living that to not enjoy oneself when it is possible is a great travesty.
