traveling "local"

Darjeeling tea with cream and sugar from a middle eastern grocery store in the city. Incense burning soft southwest shaman swirls of cedar, pinion, and alder. Lila Downs sexy, forceful voice twirling Spanish rrrr's as she sings about blue sand and snake clouds. Candles burn, I float the Egyptian Nile.

Settling back into myself after being deposited back home in the middle of the night. I decided at some point during my absence that I want to start over. Theoretically this is good. Realistically: not really all that easy. Life comes crashing back in.

Upon my return, I feel a little bit like I did after spinning my niece and nephew around till we couldn't stand up straight. You know the feeling: when you put your arms out wide and spin until everything begins to blur dangerously. So you stop but everything else keeps moving. Brain molecules flying out of control. The world falls out of place with everything shifting like that. (please-- try it now if you've forgotten this sensation.)

Maybe I'm just acclimating to these low, swampy altitudes. Or maybe it's because the house was shown 3 times today. Maybe it's because I feel like I exist nowhere in particular. Vertigo. These past days people have been asking me for directions-- in Minneapolis, Waterton, Banff, Fielding. I like the feeling of people thinking I'm a local in those strange lands when in reality I live nowhere. Not even here.

Tonight, with Wolfie, we swam in the river and then hiked for miles and miles into the woods. Going further than we ever have before, we came to a steep incline. Hiking up it I pretended I was still in the mountains. I thought about what V. said not too long ago, that we don't need to own nature to enjoy it. I crested the hill and ridge upon ridge folded in on itself. For that moment it was all mine-- without owning any of it. And I decided on my hike back that if I could walk forever... happiness could be maintained.