putting thoughts down. finally.

I'm sick of people telling me I need to write more and me knowing that it is true.

I live a life that some tell me is romantic...I'd never define it as that, but I do feel like I live on the front lines, like I'm in the game, like I didn't miss the boat, like I'm going somewhere. That's a feeling I'll never exchange for the opposite. Which I have felt before.

I'm ready to get home. Ready to get back into the swing of things. Ready for routine. Ready to put into practice all that I've learned this trip - the insights from books, people, thoughts, long showers (a commodity in India). I'm ready to see my beloved Tibetan and Indian friends that have become family to me.
I never want to forget this particular trip back to the States. My boys are 5 & 6. Unbelievable age. Wouldn't trade this life stage for anything. For real. My boys have really blessed me this trip. Somehow, by God's grace, my kids have begun to "honor" me. How these things happen, I don't know. Mothering still stumps me and still challenges me in ways no other task has done. Hardest thing I've done. Thing I've felt worst at. Thing I've felt so utterly scared of and so absolutely stunned by. Mothering. What a privilege.
In less than a week we board a plane to go back to what we now know as home. We've begun to know it well and sometimes I'm surprised we still want to board that plane. But we do. All 4 of us. Thick and thin. For better or for worse.

I feel a sense of urgency. I have dreams at night. I sometimes worry for my friends in India like they are my own children. I haven't slept well thinking about Naina lately - one of our street youth who was just married off this week at age 13. Her family forcing her into adulthood. Makes me ill. Two nights ago I woke up sweating thinking about Didi and wishing I could hold her and tell her it will be ok. I think about how she keeps going, knowing she's barely making it in her little shack with 5 kids, no bathroom, no electricity. Dave's builders at the shop have become like little brothers to me and I worry sick about them. I want to get back to Anu and practice his math and English and make sure he can pass grade 2 this year and go on to break the poverty cycle his family has been stuck in.

I have a sense of urgency. I should. Its bleak. Its hard. Its broken. And I know someone who can fix it. Mend it. Change it. Make it better. It's time to go home now.