Landing

One of my favorite things to do as a child was to jump on the trampoline. I loved the feeling of soaring through the air and doing all sorts of wild and twisting tricks. One thing that I learned as a young professional trampoline jumper was that the landing was just as important as the trick performed in mid-air. In fact, the landing may have been even more important, as preparation for the miraculous feat to come.

So, I've landed. For a moment. On Monday morning, I got in my car and have since put nearly 1900 miles between here and there. Between then and now, I've seen several American states, consumed countless numbers of Starbucks frappucino beverages and lamented the price of gas at every stop. Goddamn the price of gas. I've also greatly obsessed about where I would pee. To pee or not to pee? Peeing in random, strange trucker stop places is a big deal for a girl driving by herself across the country in a skirt. I suppose I could wear pants, but that really wouldn't make a difference. Safety first...

While flying is often the scarier part of living one's dream, sometimes landing is even harder. It's harder in the mind, and sometimes harder on the body. It can also be a challenge to the spirit. But I will say that this is the best landing I've ever had. The landing, in fact, has been an affirmation in many ways. I've made my way back east, to a place that I consider home. And even though I am temporarily homeless, I feel like I've arrived in a time and place that's been waiting for me for a lifetime.

Off to London on Tuesday, then Tel Aviv after that. And don't worry, friends, Namaste will keep on blogging.

Mucho amor,

N