hello there. hello you who is up and busting through your day, and also hello you, who like me is wide awake in the middle of the night from the combo of jet lag + your toddler’s body asleep sideways on top of yours. andrew and i recently returned from japan and are settling back into normal. it was one of the most moving places we’ve ever been, and to unplug during our special and limited time there was nothing short of lovely and exactly what we needed in this season. right now we’re in that post travel mode that propels us towards life’s simple comforts, like the smell of our babies hair, and the way our hardwoods feel when barefoot, and the taste of cold cereal before bedtime. but japan. beautiful japan. what a place. a place, sensory wise, couldn’t feel more different than our home, yet still, whispered faintly of nostalgia because this was the country that moved my young curiosity back in middle school and really made me want to see how others lived and loved in the world. as i lay here under the covers, tapping away and considering having tea and waking up already, my head is a swarm of bumblebees, buzzing with inspiration and new insights on life outside of my comfort zone and what it means to live intentionally beyond my grasp of anything i knew before landing in japan. traveling to a place that makes you work for even the most primal things like food and sheltar can’t not change you. whether good or bad, that feeling of novelty and sometimes unease, is something you’ll carry inside forever. it’s humbling and uplifting and strangely exhausting without being tiring but also tiring without measure and the essence of why we love to travel to places overflowing with things we don’t understand yet crave to know more intimately. there’s so much i want to write about and send out into the world because that’s been my default. i suppose you feel this way from time to time because you’re here, too. but there’s also poetry in taking a break and detaching and practicing restraint from time to time, to fully absorb the uncomfortability of the moment in travel (or otherwise) and to be moved by it without strings or distraction. anyway, back home and so happy.
Shared by mamawatters (Amanda Watters) and selected for Art.