The Final Entry

There is sand in my notebook, and I’m starting to think my transition back to “reality” is perhaps more of a transition to unreality. I came back to America happy to eat Taco Bell and sleep in a familiar place. I smiled at the sight of free toilet paper in public restrooms and was thankful for the lack of ever present insects. I stood tall as I entered doorways and took comfort in the company of fellow English speakers. But I have now found a sense of emptiness within all these conveniences. In the past nine weeks, I had no life altering realizations. I didn’t see the light or get a tattoo (though I almost did) or find some new calling. I didn’t “find myself” or change the world. If anything, I found my current (and always held) world view to be quite on point. But again, not in any surprising sort of way. I faced fears of water, of insects, of heights, animals, allergies, germs, children and various forms of transportation. And lived to tell about it with all my limbs still in tact. But that wasn’t the highlight for me. At some point I found myself sitting barefoot by a fire in a bamboo bar, sheltered from the rain and overlooking a river. And I felt good. There ended up being little writing in this blog. I didn’t have the overwhelming need to record and release. And maybe that is why I felt reality never had to be forced during those nine weeks. But now I am back in this world, finishing out this log of my epic South East Asia adventure. I am content with having my words finally attached to my name. Till the next mish… Shelley