travel

It took me awhile to get used to. I would eye every upcoming cluster of people (mostly men) sitting idly around, thinking they were gonna be brown bagging it, eyes vacant from some drug, and get ready to be pestered for help. Instead I found men sitting on tiny stools, sipping tea, hands working prayer beads, deep in conversation.

Who really has it better? Us bankers running around collecting more and more money, stressed by emails piling up, sitting in overly lit corporate spaces, casting judgement on people spending their afternoons laughing outdoors with friends? As the kids say, feels like cope.

It’s like taking a hallucinogenic drug, without all the bad stuff, like it being illegal and maybe killing you. You come back from the “trip” with a different perspective. A different sense of who you are, and why we’re all here.