Moments of nostalgia have been filling my heart these days. Childhood memories of freedom, riding my blue 10-speed bike down the neighborhood sidewalk, passing by the gardenia bushes in full bloom. The park was my destination. We’d run around for what seemed like forever — or at least until the streetlights went on. That was our signal to head home.
Things felt so different back then. It was a world of wonder and possibility. Everything seemed more colorful and welcoming. Or perhaps that’s just how I remember it.
Memories are funny that way. The filters of time are there to give us little bits and pieces.
Today, the sun was shining. Not only outside, but within my heart as well. It feels like a new chapter has unfolded. I finally feel at home here. It has taken a while to release the memories of Bali and life on the other side of the world. Not to forget, but just to let go of the grip that was still pulling on my heart. It was such a bittersweet time of my life. A bit more bitter than sweet. ;) A lot of healing of the heart has taken place over the last year since I’ve been back home.
Healing is kind of like learning a foreign language. One day I wake up and I’m just living it. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment it occurred — if there even was one. It doesn’t matter, really. There’s just a simple awareness that things feel a bit lighter and brighter.
Today, my world is filled with color. And magic. And wonder. And the feeling of joy that goes beyond time, space, and circumstance. I am so grateful to be here. To be home.