Square 1

I am so tired and really need some sleep, but I feel like I have all these wayward thoughts inside me that need to be put into words, and rest won't come till I do.

The Philippines were so....simple.  People don't worry about the stuff we worry about.  People take life in stride, they can do nothing all day and be perfectly content.

Sometimes, when I was feeling frustrated or sad or just needed to get away I would go to this rice field about a 10 minute bike ride from our place.  As soon as I would cross the brook and turn the corner into the paddies, I would get this feeling of calm and serenity.  It was always so pleasantly quiet there...I mean, there were still the normal noises-birds chirping, the slicing of the sickle through the stalks-but they were good noises, peaceful noises, natural noises.

The thing about this rice field is that it takes you by surprise.  There are hundreds of rice fields around, but from this one you can see the mountains and the ocean, and there is a little river running through it to water the rice.  There are these beautiful purple water lilies and lots of placid caribou nearby; they always looked at me curiously when I push my bike through their mudflat.

I would ride my bike as far as the little bridge that crossed over the river.  There I would hop off and stick my feet in the water and just sit and think and pray and whatever.  The sun always shone and it was SO hot but so nice and so...serene like you wouldn't believe.

Ah, I miss it so much.
One time I asked Zernan if he wanted to get up early with me the next morning and go see the sunrise from my field.  He gamely agreed, since he doesn't sleep much anyway.  So in the gray of the dawn the next morning we traipsed over there and sat by the brook.  The sun came up and we talked about life and all the things we were gonna do and wanted to do but in that moment those things didn't really matter, just the sun mattered and the field mattered and our cool feet mattered.

We have all these dreams, all these things we're gonna do in our lives.  All these plans we think are gonna happen, all these great romances and loves we think we're gonna have.
The fairy-tale thing really doesn't work out much, does it?  It's funny how we're hard-wired to want perfection.  Or actually, maybe it's not funny at all.

When I was an SM (wow, is it already over?) I wanted to be GOOD.  I tried so hard to be good.  And I felt like, somehow, I achieved some sort of goodness while I was there.  Some sort of kindness and and courage and confidence and lovingness.  I had hoped it would stick around when I got back home, but it didn't really...I mean, maybe it's still there but it's gotten covered up by my resentments and worries.  Guess I'm a work in progress.

But, for now, I guess I will try to be like my dog and be happy with the life I've been given.  Today Gracie was ecstatic even though all I'd given her was a marshmallow.

These days I mostly just wish I were traveling, I wish I were going on adventure after adventure all over the world.  But that's just me trying to run away from my insecurities and false hopes and disappointments and who knows what else, and I already did that.  It's time to bite the bullet and finish my game, it's time to start being the person who I was there.  A leader, a friend, a carefree girl.

Cliff and I promoting love

My Rice Field

Maybe it's time for a new start, out with the old, square one.  People always say "we're back to square one" like it's a bad thing, but who says it has to be that way?

Bloomsday

The thing about time is that it goes by,

And lately it has felt like my life has been going by at this alarming rate--like, where did the last three days go?  They just sped by so fast I didn't have time to think about them.  

Home.  Home from the Philippines.  Home from the tropics, home to icy cold Spokane, home to my family and my pets and my friends and my places...

and I'm startled to find out that, on the outside at least, that I am still basically the same person I was before I left.  I am a bit more serious, maybe--a bit more melancholy, more mature, more aware...more wary, more worried...more alive, more smiley...just more of stuff. 

I landed in Spokane on Bloomsday, which I thought was appropriate.  I may have missed the actual Bloomsday race, but I am finishing a race, too, just a longer and different one.

There were hills and ups and downs and sunny spots and cold spots and I was always out of breath

but the exercise was so good for me...and as I fell over the finish line, I thought...wasn't this supposed to be more graceful?  A more prepared finish?  But I like it like this better.  

I kept thinking that being home would feel so weird and different and reverse-culture-shock-y, but honestly, I feel very normal...I keep having to think back to my 8-month life in the Philippines and remind myself that it was REAL, it wasn't just a dream.  All the happinesses and hurts were real.  

I could describe my last two weeks in the Philippines, but there is too much to write, too many emotions to express, too many people I dearly love and miss and also things that I was glad to leave.  

Someday, I hope these two lives can merge...will I see them again?  Will I hear their voices?  Or will I just be caught again in my grind, my place, my home...is it really so bad to be caught in it?  

Two homes, one life.  

May 1st, 2011 On my flight home from Seattle to Spokane.  

And now it's as if I am in "between" land, in the quiet between chapters of my life.  

I'm scared, I'm nervous, I miss the Phils, and I can't stop smiling.  

Contrast?  Maybe.  

Here on my flight to Spokane from Seattle--

I'm home!  And yet I am am in a dream, missing my old life...

Lord, save us, help me..

Ah!  Descending, and my heart is racing-

My last few moments of me, independence, peace

My time in the sky is over; no more bird's eye view.

Time to enter the fray, to touch down..

Ready, Rainey?  

Ready for the world?

Flying low, flying lower, 

Hello Spokane!

And...

Touch