Back to Reality

I was back in the valley that I called home, but the feelings aren't there for it. I was excited to see old friends and I couldn't keep myself away from the school I feel more at home at than anywhere else. I had four days before I was suppose to pack my bags again and set out for Colorado. The next part of my project is to go to the Shambhala Mountain Center, stay there for a few weeks and take three programs. Four days to prepare didn't feel like enough.

But I have returned to the civilization that is familiar, and it all felt unfamiliar because it was too familiar. I started doing the same things I had done before I left; got in the same car, drove the same roads, talked the same way, dressed in the same clothes, watched the same shows, bought the same food. And it all felt wrong. The day I got back, I told my mother that I was seeking a new roof. Now, I was unsure of where I'd even be sleeping at night. But that didn't scare me, I had faced much worse in the last month. And I was 18 now, an adult. I left a girl and returned as a woman. But this power, or title, bestowed upon me by my society only made me feel more like a child. With this new ability to leave or move around, this new sense of freedom and mobility, I didn't know what to do. I was afraid of what I'd do with the power, not being taught how to handle it with responsibility or maturity. But I taught myself that it was not as important as I was making it out to be. So, I bought a gallon of milk, some meat, cheese, and english muffins, and I went back to an empty house and slept after listening and responding to a growling stomach. Another part of me was growling as well, seeking satisfaction, seeking for nourishment. And that voice will be feed when I have the proper food to prepare.