Goin' back to Cali

What a strange dream I had. I saw so much, worshipped at the altars of ancient churches, hundreds of years in age. I danced new dances with rhythms that I had never heard of. I went inside the fortress walls of cities that stood still in time, with no wish to move forward, happy in their ways that know no criticism. I saw a woman stomp her feet, sway her hips with grace and power, and I learned feminity. I drank from the queimada, the wish of good luck, the potion set apart for those wishing to do the will of God not evil. I listened to the sounds of languages that I didn't speak, but I understood the language of laughter. And then I understood, that everything in its beauty was the same. And that some things you don't have to travel far to see. The comfort of friends, the smile of a child, the love of family, the love of someone you have chosen to give your heart to and the familiarity of certain ills that bring you comfort simply because they are a part of you.

Now waking up, I had forgotten the things that once consumed me in my everyday life in LA. Travelling, I had learned to live outside of a backpack, placing my necessities in my heart, and cutting out all that simply weighed me down in my journey. Coming back, I feel lighter, and I wish to live more simply, with more emphasis on learning from others and loving others, not in theory but in practice. I learned alot from Europe - that you can build something beautiful, but what makes life itself is the people inhabiting that beauty.