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At the time of day when the inky west Bali ocean folds in bands of tangerine, a brawny body adorned by tattoos paddles out on his surfboard. He has a bundle of plastic containers and fishing line nestled under his neck

Over the loudspeaker, we heard a gentleman tell the passengers how the native people of Alaska thought of the glacier as a living thing. The rumbles of “white thunder” punctuated their lives as the glacier shed triangles of ice into the water and detached even larger and more dangerous sections below the water. Maybe these words hint of truth about the glacier or about the nature of its beauty, and the wonder of experience. The glacier can’t tell me how to live, it offers no advice.

The city is still flickering from the day’s heat when we finally manage to escape from the verve of Saint Louis, a city on the northwest coast of Senegal. It has already been a month I have spent here, in Saint Louis, living in a cultural centre Le Château, where I share a home with Senegalese and French people working on the cultural program. When the day is coming to an end it is time to leave behind all the happenings of Le Château. My friend said once: “They organize their work around their life, not their life around their work.

My mental load and my expectations become lighter as well when in a place where I can’t always ask for or access what I want. The comforts of home and having every little thing I may need at my fingertips tends to create physical and mental clutter if I’m not selective. That thing and many other things haven’t taken up space in my life while I wouldn’t have even been thinking about them. These many small useful future comforts which i would have historically maneuvered around hadn’t cluttered my space in all this time.