It’s time not only to get back to writing this blog, but also to move beyond Route 66 — at least for now. Perhaps I should go home. Yes, I think it’s time. But first a few moments to reflect. What an experience this RV journey has been, not only for myself but for my children. It really does ground you and put you in your place, while at the same time open the door to endless possibilities of magnitude and depth and knowing without seeing. Feel the energy and let go. It’s OK.
A parting view of the Canyon.
Sometimes I get caught up in the moment, in the minutiae of the day-to-day dilemmas and issues, that I lose sight of the grandness of it all. And the insignificance. Now all I need to think about the Southwest, and other places where I’ve traveled that were larger than life, such as the view of the Himalayas overlooking Pokhara from just outside Kathmandu, Nepal, or erupting Mount Merapi in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. (Merapi became the middle name of our youngest child.)
My next leg of the journey: Back to the Berkshires. Where there’s plenty going on, and a lot to keep me thinking. I have a few new endeavors that I’m about to embark upon. One is as editor of Berkshire Magazine, an exciting new publication that will hit the stands and the mailboxes by June’s end. Another is I’m finally going back to visit Bali, where we lived for several years. And where we haven’t returned since moving to the Berkshires. And, in the fall, I will start holding occasional youth writing workshops in the loft of our barn. (Thanks to a grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council.)
I am invigorated by the challenges and the prospects. Yes, it’s time to go home, to move on to the next chapter.
I can’t wait.
