1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.
3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
My mom works in the medical field and every now and then, she'd come home and tell me the story of her young 30-something patient who just keeled over the next day: an untimely accident, a stroke, a heart attack. It's always in those moments that I feel the impermanence of life.
It is Monday morning, not even 7 o'clock yet. Technically, the report launches in Australia today. It's a mixed bag, this launch, this publication. I feel almost like there's a giant hole where the research, frustration, writing, editing once was. I'm looking forward to my next big project, though I presume it will not be in Cambodia. Also, there's some fear and apprehension of what the reaction will be. I only need to remember last summer's headache. And then, on top of that, I fear for some of the stories we highlighted, some of the faces who agreed to be named, photographed, and quoted in the publication. Some had already been threatened. One had to flee and leave his family for a few months in order to seek safety.