All right, all right. I’m in Budapest. Since last my thoughts became pixels, I did this: Marrakech, Sofia, Rila, Plovdiv, Varna, Veliko Tarnovo, Bucarest, Sinaia, Brasov, Sibiu, Sighisoara. Then Budapest. Now Budapest. I am in Budapest. I am in the Pest part of… Budapest.
Reading all of that gives me a different take on the phrase, “I am in…” because my body has been going all over the place in the past few weeks, the rods and cones in my eyes have made shadow and color out of churches uncountable, and I’ve left rumples on pillows in all of the towns I mentioned… but while my feet do one kind of wandering my thoughts have primarily done a different one. Or, rather, they’ve just wandered somewhere else. Traveling does that for me. It frees me up. Routine, which would bog me down, doesn’t fit in my backpack.
So I’ve been in all those places, and everywhere I’ve been, amazing things have happened. But on this trip, at this juncture, going to different places has really propelled my thoughts in two OTHER directions: backward and homeward. I’m finally taking the time to go over the past year, that big first year out in the wider world. A lot more happened than I had realized, or acknowledged. And I’m feeling pulled, irresistibly, toward the future, America, vers tout le monde et tout ce qui m’attend. It’s so exciting to be going back home! This happens every time I prepare to return: I feel full of the potential of W H A T I S N E X T.