It was in high school class
That I was dreaming about traveling the world. It’s not a good focus, when you are expected to work on your future career. I was looking out off the window most of the time.
It was for the fear that the heavens might fall down on my head
That it took a while for me to loose the fear of the unknown. Some people say that wisdom comes with the age of forty. For me, it came around my 50th Birthday. That is when I really started traveling the world. With family, with co-workers, with groups and on my own.
It takes you to the most amazing places
Places that you never thought could exist. It broadens your mind. It opens up horizons. It makes you evolve into a World Citizen. An individual that blends it with different cultures. Travels that makes you understand why people live the lives they live.
People have a reason to behave like they behave
It is for us, travelers, to learn to understand different views on life and the earth. Traveling makes you become a better version of yourself. We can solve the problems that this world is facing. By traveling and putting an effort into understanding other ways of living and learn to understand what the world needs from us.
Wherever you are is called Here
You can leave me at an airport at midnight, with no possibility to get out and I will feel OK. Because that is when you have most interesting conversations with other people that stayed behind. And if it leaves me alone, I pretty much feel OK too. I always have the comfort of the company of my laptop. I will start writing down the experiences I had during that past day, week, month or year.
It helps if you treat that moment as a powerful stranger
Ask permission to know it and to be known. And by the moment you excepted that, you will get into the zone. Being one with the world around you.
That is where my recent travels took me. A small village in the South of Moldova.
I knew about the existence of an old psychiatric facility from the 60’s
It was on my wish list to travel there and grasp some feeling, understanding of what happend in this facility.
The pictures tell their own story. Nevertheless, if you have questions, don’t hesitate to ask me. You can also visit this amazing website: The Moldovan Diaries.
Kerrigan doesn’t only focus on present day psychiatry. In “St. Remy, France,” she pays tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, who “immortalized psychosis”:
No pills or potions to halt
the constant condemning chatter
of your mind. Moved, I hear
the voices of former patients,
my own voice, reminding me
mental illness respects no one,
yet it can leap right off
the borders of the canvas, transforming
torment into masterpieces.
Mental illness may not respect anyone, but Kerrigan’s respect for her patients and colleagues comes through loud and clear, and she makes sure their voices are heard.
I copied some lines of the poem “Lost“, by David Whyte in this blog.