Hometown Glory

 “Your true home is in the here and the now.”  Thich-Nhat-Hanh

I have less than a week in Latvia. It happened so fast, and as my beautiful friend Shanti said on the phone this morning, now is the perfect time for me to strengthen my ability to stay relentlessly present. I try to not think about the next day all too much, let alone next week, or I begin to feel overwhelmed. I've had numerous people ask me what time my flight is on Wednesday, and I smile and say, how am I to know? - that is next week.

I wish for more slow mornings like this, but I know that this is the last one. The next couple of days are booked with relatives, dinners, a wedding, last moment errands, other miscellaneous events, the travel in between, and so forth. I recall that first morning, almost 30 days ago: I was sipping my coffee at Lionda's parents house, and utterly bare of obligations. It is almost odd how quickly that turned around, almost as if to toy. 

In the end, my time here has felt somewhat marathon-like, but I guess that is to be expected when you wait three years to come home, and try to play catch up in 30 days. To all those that I saw for a very short burst, or did not get to see at all, I hope that they know I care. My heart has been a little restless, and the only thing consoles, is the hope that people understand. 

It's always the same for me here. The first week I feel bluntly tense, the second week I begin to ease, the third week I love it, and during the last, I begin to wonder, what if. Now my heart is filled with an array of royal jewels. As I venture into my next stage of my journey, I have to remind myself of this pattern. Give everything some time. And maybe there will light,  maybe there will be glory. And with that I am off to finish the last stretch. I hear that the last six miles of a marathon are about the same in effort as the first twenty - hopefully it's not entirely an escalating crescendo of stress.

My grandpa and grandpa in Suntazi, Latvia.