Marrakech: the presence of clouds and ____ springs eternal

Dear friends,

I am living with anxiety now. It's taking its toll. Sleep comes uneasily, concentration is difficult, tasks go undone. We learned today that although our bank loan (our third) has been approved, it seems that somehow (How? How?) the money will not be in our hands until mid-January. Mid-January! But……..but……orders have been put in for windows and doors…….for insulation and bathroom tiles. If we do not pay…we will forfeit our deposits. My parents have suggested that we temporarily close down our project -- our Peacock Pavilions job site. (We are eternally grateful to my parents, the most generous of all people – the funds and good will that have sprung willingly from their checkbooks and hearts have kept us afloat for some time now.) But closing down our construction site is simply not possible. We would have to fire all our workers, who would then get new jobs, and where would we be?

The fact is…….that we can’t stop.

So at 6am this morning, we held an emergency meeting – Chris and I. We looked at each other, and then, in worried whispers, we came to a decision; we are cashing in retirement funds. And we must pay the fines that this entails. I do know that this is a drastic thing to do (hand wringing, hand wringing) but desperate times call for desperate measures.

We must not falter. So I beg you to send no messages with alternative plans or ideas. I am so fragile right now, and time is against us, you see. What I need most is your kind support, your encouragement, your shoulder to lean on. If I could ask you please, please to take a moment to close your eyes and send out into the universe a small and resolute message of strength …winding its way from your home or office across the ocean…..to our little olive grove here in Marrakech. You will know it's our place by the flowers spilling over the gate, by the peacock feathers strewn on the path, by the children’s shoes by the front door ….

This time will pass and be over. There’s no time to look back.

With love,

Maryam in Marrakesh