cold mongolian mornings
being winter, my mornings now start in the cold, drinking coffee and reading a book on the back porch. the cat meows wanting to be let out, but apart from that all is quiet.
when i traveled for work in mongolia, mornings began the same, though perhaps a little colder. and though others were around, we weren’t much interested in conversation in those early hours.
we’d sit around a campfire or near the canteen, waiting for breakfast and sipping coffee slowly to warm our hands. one person would finish a cigarette, another would light one so metallic blue smoke always drifted toward whoever didn’t smoke.
we all knew the rest of the day would be filled with field reconnaissance or driving over a sometimes-frustrating mix of good and bad roads. in any case, the day ahead felt as mundane as our morning routine.
and though my mornings now are as quiet as those days on the steppe, something is missing in the energy. perhaps the lack of company, but it's more so how the rest of the day unfolds.
back then, days could be monotonous, but there was purpose in that repetition - reaching the next destination or sampling a river system - and there was always a clear end to the day: beers at sunset or crashing in our own beds.
my life now is very different. days can be just as mundane, but they’re filled in fleeting windows of phone calls, meetings, customer service issues, emails. it’s hard to see purpose (if there is any) when you’re constantly in motion - there is literally no perspective.
this is why this blog is so important to me. i can capture some of the energy i used to feel in those mongolian mornings - that silent enthusiasm, that sense that life had meaning.
i hope this makes sense to anyone reading. i’m not critiquing modern society, simply reaching out for connection and that lost sense of purpose.
and i pray that my mornings continue to be filled with as much innocence as they once had - that i can find perspective and fulfillment again. i want my days to end hugging someone i care about.