Home

I have to say that my heart sank as the plane descended into the brown smoggy cloud hovering over Los Angeles. We pay a price for living in a modern city full of industry and automobiles. It is such a contrast to the sweet mountain air of Central America.
I am home. I am typing on my own laptop, sitting on my own bed in my beautiful house. It has been good to be home, especially to be with friends and the dog.

Although I am glad to be home, I am sad that my adventure is over. I am sad that life is back to normal. I have so enjoyed the time to think, the opportunity to be an observer, and the simple richness of natural beauty. I am grateful for adventures with a precious friend and time away with Rob. I've had long conversations with God about the state of the world around me and about my own life. My soul feels well-fed and content.
I think part of my somber mood is due to the fact that being home means that my soul is no longer as free to dream and explore. Instead I must protect the inner parts of myself from the onslaught of tasks, performances and evaluations that are the reality of my life. I am faced with the challenge of learning how to integrate the experiences and lessons from my trip into my busy Southern California life. That is not easy.