This piece was first published in the December 2021 issue of Among Worlds. Chozi Ya Chui shares his “experience of embracing that feeling of aloneness” which many TCKs can experience.
Each of us is unique in our TCK journey, yet I believe most have found themselves dealing with feeling alone somewhere along the path. Facing life in a foreign land, not speaking the language, not looking the same, not understanding the culture—all these things can build a sense of aloneness. Combine this with drifting from land to land, often with no control of the destination, and this sensation can begin to dominate our lives. So often we are taught that being alone is a weakness—society is built on inclusion, so to be alone is to have somehow failed.
Allow me to share my own experience of embracing that feeling of aloneness, seeking the quiet moments, and renewing my soul in a world that cannot understand. Touch the night with me, find yourself, and know that being alone can truly be a beautiful thing…. Perhaps it may shine a light into the darkness of your lonely heart. What follows is my memory of skin-diving alone at night in the Santa Fe River.
So often we are taught that being alone is a weakness—society is built on inclusion, so to be alone is to have somehow failed.
“I am home again, returned from a magical night immersed in the heart of the river, drifting with the ever-changing currents of crystal, bathed in the light of a thousand distant stars, washed by the cold clear liquid of life.
The glow of my dive light plays across the rippling colors of tiny shells, waving river grass, and a carpet of water worn stones. Sleeping fish hide in every crevice of rock and sunken tree, moving only grudgingly at the touch of my ghostly hand. An iridescent cloud of minnows drifts by, colors varied as an arching rainbow.
Below me a shadow moves wetly in the depths, just beyond the reach of my wavering light; a vision of gators gives me pause—or is it simply some forgotten log, long since sunk to a watery grave. A turtle glides silently beside me, untroubled by the dark, whiskers of moss waving like long-drowned hair from her shell. A silvery catfish regards me dolefully as I glide through his universe, an unwelcome intruder from the world of light and air.
Up again to breathe deep…
The night above is filled with the insect sounds of summer; the air is alive with the flutter of tiny bats intent, it seems, on devouring the music makers. Life is all around me tonight: teeming in the waters I drift through, swirling through the air above, coursing through my body with every slow beat of my heart. I find myself grasping for words as my memories swirl round me like the nowdistant current. To skin-dive the night waters of the river alone is to know one is truly alive.”
As I think of you, my TCK friends, I ask you to live well and listen for a moment to the silent music of the night. Embrace the moments you feel alone, and realize that you are enough, so long as you are there.
Raised in Kenya, East Africa, and serving now as a ranger in North Florida, this author shares his soul songs as Chozi Ya Chui—the tears of a leopard. “For the leopard truly walks in darkness, and these are my hidden tears.”
I still tear up when this old song plays on the radio; the smell of rain on the dusty roads of my homeland, memories of a time and place forever slipped away, a reminder of why I am alone—and why my soul is a beautiful place: …https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=QAo_ Ycocl1E&list=RDAMVMQAo_Ycocl1EToto – “Africa”
