And when the heart ached and throbbed, the ground drew it closer and closer until the heart’s rapid anxious beating transformed into deep voluptuous breath of the earth
When you ask me how my trip was, I have hard time explaining that it is not a vacation I take “camping”. It is trips HOME that I take, trips BACK to where I came from, where I need to be, where I belong. Upon my return to “reality”, I feel homesick among the walls and pavement, among the roads covered in tires and engines, among the skies lined with wires, among the sounds that suffocate the breath of the trees, the hum of the ocean, the gasps of wind, the rumble of rocks, the sound of sunrise. My heart aches for the blue endless waters, for the ground that feeds, that carries energy, for the roots that so deeply intertwine with my roots, for the climbs that end above the horizon, for rainbows growing out of water in front of your eyes, for the shadows of rain over ocean, for the reflection of a sunset on the backs of jumping whales. I long to be at home yet I strive to make the best of this temporary habitat, this dream in which I live among brick walls, roofs, paved roads, long lists, endless tasks. Some day I will gain enough knowledge to permanently return home, but for now, I am happy to share my life with beautiful friends that surround me and the beauty that lies within us.
