For my birthday I received two bracelets – one with beads
from Turkey, and one spun from grass. Looking down at my wrists was a strong
visual of the ongoing tension I feel between exploring the world and setting
deep roots to land and community. The tension is punctuated by my partner’s departure
for Nepal in a week and our visit to a sheep farm last month. The idea of each
path titillates me as I punch out a life in suburbia. But I strongly believe in
living an integrative life. I know what it is to trek through Nepal, even
though I have never been there. I know the stimulation of new sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, oh how I love the tastes. I know the hospitality of others. I
know the richness of new cultures. But life happens now. And right now, I can
show that hospitality. I can incorporate rich traditions into my own day with
incense and gongs and hugs and generosity. I can see and hear and smell and
taste things anew with mindfulness. Likewise, I can know and care about what is
in my backyard. I can experience the elements in an acre lot. I can work my
body and grow my food and wash my clothes. I can invest in my community and get
to know those around me and share life in little ways. I’m not saying I wont
eventually follow a path to the Turkish beads or spun grass. I have heard that
those who are faithful with little will be given much. But the much in my hands
right now is this living moment wherein I can integrate where I have been and where I am now.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a
raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meant?
Or curst and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sages
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
--Langston Hughes
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