Next leg

The dream last night was all about knowing I have to go on a trip, and having a ticket, and having a hair appointment, but never quite being able to get the actual dates and times of my flight and appointment. There were always interruptions from this one and that one, and I was always in a very chaotic environment; so chaotic that I couldn’t think clearly.

I woke up with the feeling of running after myself, being exhausted and chaos. It occurred to me that I may have absorbed some of the anxiety and feelings of refugees that gets channeled to me via the news and mixes with my long trip and countless assignments that require action from me during the day and after hours. I have never been a refugee so I don’t know, but I can imagine it would be something like this – except that for them there are no plane tickets or hair appointments.

Axel and I were finally able to catch up on Skype while he was cooking an Indian dinner. Our friend W happened to be there and chimed into the conversations from time to time as we talked about the hysteria that is creeping into everyday life. This I see as a victory for ISIS. Fear does bad things to otherwise rational human beings.

The husband of our friend M, already very frail when I saw him last time, has passed away. I won’t be able to be at the funeral. Axel will have to represent me. I am sorry that i am so far away.

I packed my suitcase for the fifth time. Today we will drive to Man in the western part of the country. It looks, on the tiny internet map, as if it is about 75 km from the Guinean and Liberian border. It is far from Abidjan, some 600 km which will take about 8 hours, I am told. It is rainy season and if the roads over there are anywhere like the ones I have seen pictures of in Liberia, then 8 hours would be fast. I will be in good company with two women, dear colleagues I have worked with for years, one my age and one much younger. They are both very interested in the psychology of leadership. I think we will have some fabulous conversations.

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