You search with eyes open wide and sometimes full of tears.
I have so many friends who are going through such trials right now, trials that make mine seem small. Especially considering that I walked into mine, almost ran. I am simply homesick. And I don't even know what place I am thinking of when I think of home.
But I am thinking of friends, and family, and a different climate, and a different way of walking down the street. And I am crying in the internet café. And it is okay to be sad, it is okay to curl into your pillow.
But then comes the time when you need to cultivate joy. My garden is swampy in this monsoon. I need a little shelter for it, something to let it breathe.
I keep thinking of these doves I would see, as I looked out, off of the balcony of the guesthouse in Turkey. They fluttered and cooed, we heard their cries every morning, we woke up to them. But if you watched at the right moment, you could see one of them halt. It would stop flying, relax, like an empty bag, and simply fall.
They would plummet freely toward the ground, and then at some point open their wings and effortlessly return to flight.
I think I am at the falling point, the part where you relax and allow yourself to drop into what feels like nothing, but is really the very atmosphere that will hold you up when your wings unfurl again. Here we go, falling, looking for joy with eyes wide, sometimes full of tears.