Alright, I’ve finally come to terms with a hard reality. I have an addiction. Well actually, I have quite a few, most of which fall under the larger sub grouping of sugar. But that’s yesterday’s news. The newly emerged addiction is that of candles.

Last year my best friend of… what is it now? Well since third grade sent me an awesome birthday package full of delicious items, two pairs of the fuzziest socks that have ever graced this planet, and a spiced candle. I was ridiculously grateful and may have even leaked out a tear or two in joy. But, I did find it a little ridiculous that she had sent me a candle. I mean, I live in a tent. It’s slightly flammable to say the least.

I called another volunteer, verbally cataloging all of the things I had gotten, as Peace Corps custom dictates. I laughed about the candle, until my friend told me I was being an idiot (stated in nicer terms, of course). She reminded me that one lit candle would probably be okay, especially considering I had a giant fire lit at all times in the middle of my ger for nine out of twelve months of the year. She may have had a point.

After that I began lighting said candle once in a while. Then I started lighting it more, and more. I realized how calming an influence the relaxing smell and the small flicker of flame had on me. And then the wax finished. The next weekend on my trip into the capital I bought some more candles. Now I light them every evening when I come home and relax by them while reading, cooking, working out, watching movies, eating and pretty much any other activity done in my ger (although that list pretty much sums it up). Then I get ready for bed, turn off my overhead light and meditate while stretching before I blow the candles out and climb into bed.

This year I bought my new sitemate a candle as part of her welcome to the village gift. She’s already bought another one chosen specifically to compliment the first. Apparently I’m not the only one who finds candles addictive.


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