Sunday, April 05, 2009

For Once, I'd Rather Feel than Think

"The longest journey a man must take is the eighteen inches from his head to his heart". (Unknown)

For the I-stopped-counting-th time in the past 10 years, I am getting ready to make the trip back home, in about a week.

It's a ritualistic sort of journey, as I always tend to read more into life than just what's in front of me. I am cursed that way. I always think of this as a return to the hearth, as a journey back to self, or a journey back in search of my roots. The fact that comes around Easter (my favorite holiday) and my birthday makes it even more meaningful. The fact that for the first time in 11 years my whole family will finally be together for Easter, with our newest addition in tow, makes is just over the top.

I am sure I'll have updates as the journey develops, so stay tuned.

For now, though, although I have done this for what seems like more times than I care to count, I am just worried sick about everything. And every time I do take this journey, all these worries crop up - every time. This time is no different: will I get to the airport on time? Will I make all my flights? Or spend some nights in airports? Will I lose my luggage? Will I be able to come back to the US on my way back? Will my cats be OK? Will I lose my luggage? Will I have enough cash on me? Will both my cameras die and I'll be pictureless (God forbid!!)? Will the wonderful lady that's taking care of my cats forget to come feed them? Will they die of starvation? Will ... oh ... you get the picture.

I am worried sick, almost, and for the life of me, I am not quite sure why. Sure, one year when I went there, I forgot to pack like half of my "necessities", for lack of a better word. Another year, September 11th 2001 happened while I was there, and Green Card holders (which I then was) were temporarily forbidden from flying back to the US. Another year, one of the suitcases got back to Greensboro about 3 days after me. But most times, everything went well, and I have had smooth trips. Typically. And even with the mishaps: I have survived it all.

I also love to travel. I love to be away. I adore my family and I cannot wait to see everyone. I cannot wait to eat the foods my parents cook, I cannot wait for the dancing, the parties, the family time, I cannot wait to see my friends, I cannot wait to breathe allergy free air!!! I cannot wait to see my middle school and high school Romanian teacher ... I cannot wait to go to church and actually hear the Easter sermon in Romanian. I cannot wait to hold Patrick once more!! Now, why in the world cannot all these things overpower the silly worries, I am not sure.

I want the switch in my brain to shut off the worrying, and just let life happen, with peace. You would think after the hundredth (it seems) trip I have taken back there (and millionth trip over all in my life), I would be used to this, and know how to shut off that switch and just listen to my heart and let that be the driver. Boy, how we forget!!

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