It's 530am, Tuesday morning. I'm awake. It's the jetlag. And I'm already asking myself, "how the fuck do I get out of this madhouse?"
I think this will be the hardest lesson of all.
Lunch yesterday in Houston was dreadful. The food tasted like processed cheese. Everyone is attached to blackberries. And I fear, most of all, losing the ability to live in the moment. I worry I won't be able to snatch all those little moments of beauty and wonder, stick them in my pocket and pull them out when I need them.
It's strange, out there, in the world, I never felt lost. A stream of images rush past, the fabric of the last year, the warp of memories and the weft of people. Even in the middle of a bewildering 'India moment' I knew exactly where I was. But here?
It's not easy leaving all that magic behind.


Salon.com
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