Thieves whip the rug from under my feet but strangely it enabled me to stand firmer

I had my phone stolen on the road into Mareja...my little black, highly potent coping mechanism.  In fact it had its first real test, to give me a sense of safety, let alone....control, access to friends, means to record our experience. 

Stolen on the road at one of our veggie stops were we collected Antonio, I got out and pushed through the encasement of people around our car to greet him.  My closest friend at Mareja if you can define friendship through time spent silently and happy in each others company cooking. He is the serene elderly cook and he makes everything better.

How foolish, so very pleased to see him.  A bit like Jenga it took a fundamental block out of my psyche and the not entirely robustly constructed sanity above was rocked profoundly.  But then it couldn't be, I had to get a grip there was no back up plan....well not the kind I knew.  D rang an elder to find out if they had contacts in that village and we offered a reward.

But do you know what, apart from that one terrifying black night it was probably the best thing that has happened to me in a long time... I had to look outwards and engage more fully. 

It was a very strange process reprogramming myself to a smart-phone-less existence, the phone twitch one develops becomes an unconditional response...a swipe, tap to just check up on the world of techno communication drags ones in to a subculture so engrained that reality is only ever filtered through the screen.  But I am sure you know this.  It has made me want to have phone free hours or even days to prevent the full on addiction taking hold again. 

A few snaps of activities made easier without a phone...not Great art but small art and progress!