The dirt road less traveled...

It wasn’t until I wrote Opa an e-mail today that I realized how confused I am about my life. I know that I am floating, in limbo about my future, but there’s a lot more to it than that. Perhaps I am beginning to truly discover myself now that I am completely independent. I can’t say for sure why these thoughts never surfaced so clearly while I was living in Tokyo. Perhaps I was too busy with work or simply preoccupied with hating that godforsaken city to think about myself and where I want to be in my soul.

That may sound strange or just hippy-ish, but I’m honestly thinking about things on those terms lately. What does one need to really feel whole, or maybe just good about life and the future in general. I hate the idea of the unknown, and yet I am drawn to it so intensely that I end up half way across the world discovering who I am rather than staying home and wondering what I will be.

Can’t I just live in this moment, in this place at this time with these people? I want to live here; I want to be a part of this family. I want these kids to be my kids, always. I don’t want them to grow up and I don’t want to grow up either. How does one come to grips with the fact that this is something so good, maybe even the best, but that it can’t last and it won’t last, and in fact it will probably be fleeting enough to leave you desperate to find it again somewhere else.

This past week may have been the best of my life. Truly, I can’t think of a time where there has been such an intense cycle of emotions so varied and so pure. The excitement and horror of the goat sacrifice, the anticipation and curiosity, and the feelings of family and tradition that came with the feast that followed. Later, feelings of pity and sadness, the questions of humanity that came with the arrival of the two starved and ill children, and ultimately the fulfillment that came with caring for them and finally, seeing the smiles on their faces.

The satisfaction of the show after the extreme tension and scrambling around. The hard work that paid off, the pride in the kids as well as myself.

Sitting here, smoking for christ’s sake, don’t ask me why, looking at Swoyambunath glowing like a beacon on top of the hill, it’s flags flapping gently in the cool night air. Why would I want to leave this? Where am I going to find this kind of feeling again? How can I leave this without a deep sense of loss and sadness? Like I’m passing something up, letting something slip through my fingers never to return. Like this week, this week will never happen again. Of course there will be other weeks other times in my life that will be inspiring or amazing, but I want this, I want this time, these experiences. I don’t want to even think of what might come next. I want this.