I'm not sorry

Sometimes I visit my own blog, stare at the screen, and think, "I should get back into this."

I have a lot to say, but I'm not sure a web log is my platform of choice. I don't know. We can keep trying though, if you want. Even though no one reads this anymore. Did anyone ever read this?

I've come into myself, here in this land called The East. In the depths of the black metro tunnels, beneath the orange-leafed trees, on late-night drives down roads I've never seen. You've heard about "finding yourself," but I think it's less about finding yourself and more about understanding yourself. We're not grasping at shadows, trying to catch hold of the person we think we're meant to be. It's more introspective than that. To understand yourself you must look outward and inward. Examine your interactions with other people. Take note of your own perceptions and reactions. Ask yourself why you believe what you believe. What has shaped you? Why are you the way you are? It's easier to do--understand yourself, I mean--when you're away from home, without the security of the mountains and the smiles of strangers. When your beliefs and paradigms are constantly being challenged and brought into question. It's made me stronger, more aware of myself.

I could go on, but I don't feel like getting all philosophical right now. Let's talk about something lighter. Like Thoreau.

Okay, Thoreau's not necessarily lighter (does Thoreau count as a philosopher??) but I've been reading Walden and I love it. I love that Thoreau just up and built a cabin in the woods and lived there for two years. I've always said I wanted to do that. I didn't know people actually did. Henry David Thoreau to boot! He's the one who told us to live deeply. But do you realize he penned those words in the solitude of the forest just outside his home town? Not on the stage of a rock concert, not on the streets of Bangladesh, not at the podium of an important convention. There's something to be taken from the observation, wouldn't you agree?

We're headed north this week, to Rhode Island and Massachusetts. We'll see Walden Pond in real life. In November. I love November. I love the dead trees. I love the quiet hauntedness of it.

This post might be boring. I'm not sorry. Congratulations for making it to the end. You just wasted one minute of your life, maybe two, depending on how fast you can read. Just kidding. You did not waste your life reading what I have to write! If anything, you enriched your life. I'm getting back into the groove. A blog may not be my platform, but writing is my medium. Be patient.

But here's a compensatory blessing anyway:

This lovely photo, taken by my dear friend Alyse. In the heat of August, before her mission, after my summer in Thailand, and right in the middle of my period of emotional instability. Look at that hand-stitched blouse--all the way from Chiang Mai! I don't know what happened to it.