What are these dream-like wisps that remain of a journey once home is reached: The emotions, the memories, the experiences of the travels, frothing with the budding hopes and plans of the return?
I suppose it's a question of where does life most want one to be. Or, where is there most potential for learning and enjoyment right now? Where will I best be able to share my gifts? In the place left behind or the place arrived at? (Let's not even go there with 'or somewhere in between?') Maybe this sense of potential is what makes one place more solid, more present than another: our desire to explore the skies that are calling us.
For me right now, I’m right back here in Spain and India feels far away. In the luxury of our hotel room in McleodGanj, in the Himalayas, I was feeling like a languid boa constrictor laid out on a chaise longue while my stomach acids set to work on assimilating the experiences of the four months in India and Nepal; now I feel more like a busy, waddling duck with a belly full of jewels to lay!
Busy and waddling because I'm still full and digesting, but I'm back on European time and so my pace has picked up. And that's just me - Fernando has literally embodied the Tasmanian devil since we walked in the door!
It's all processes after all: Ingestion, digestion, incubation, defecation, birth, growth, evolution: Never-ending natural cycles carrying out their unassuming, mindful processes. Are we able to follow their example?
So this is the end of the journey. Home is the end of the journey, and I am returning. Thank you for travelling with me, sending me emails, posting comments and reading my reflections. Thank you, dear companions on the path.
