4. To answer or respond.
but moving on... return, returning, returned.... i was thinking about this a lot last week, before i went home. i had been to yoga and my teacher was talking about returning to the breath. and i wanted to explore this idea a bit more. what 'return' signified versus just attending to. because one can easily notice the breath without returning to it, and likewise, many other things. it's not just noticing, there seems to be this movement inherent to the word return. what i find fascinating is that it signifies both coming and going, sending and bringing... despite the fact that i find this slightly contradictory, it implies movement. and i like that - because that means there is not this passive observation, but an active intention.
i like this.
i was originally going to write this about my return home. but i've already left home. and i guess this is a different return - one to my daily life. home was so great, and grounding. and exhausting. i love my family and friends so much. and it's such a joy to see them and be there, and suspend this other life i live by myself, without them. i wish i didn't have to sleep (even the little i did) just so i could spend more time with them. but it's bittersweet, in some ways it reminds how much i'm missing in this other life i'm in the process of returning to...
while portland certainly isn't the 'home' i will always think about, where i grew up, where my family is, and where my friends and go back to. but it is also home in another way. it's where i've chosen to make my life, and i like the city and what it offers, and i like the scenery, and my job, and my house... all these things feel right to me. but i'm still missing that closeness of people i've known for years, of family that loves me unconditionally and makes me laugh until my stomach hurts, of friends i can talk about life superficially and deeply and anywhere between, who will tell me if i'm being ridiculous and who i feel so completely at ease with. this is what i miss. and this is what makes returning home so wonderful and then returning to my other home so hard.
i guess that's it - right? there's always a balance, but not a static one - a coming and a going, a sending and a bringing.
and now that i've sat here crying in the middle of the most amazing terminal in the jfk airport writing this possibly nonsensical emotional post, i think it's almost time to board my next plane.
love and hugs, and see ya on the west side...