I realized yesterday that more intense than my thoughts of how much I’m going to miss some of the awesome people I met, seeing little Thai kids or monks every day, the amazing food I get here, not even having the option of watching tv, and the millions of other little things that make living here so great, is my feeling of fear about entering my old world again.
I feel more alive here. I feel like a fuller, more awake, more aware person. I talk easier, I smile easier, I laugh more, I dance when there’s music on. I listen to people fully and whole heartedly. I take more interest in reading the New York Times and haven’t even thought about Western pop culture in 6 weeks (and shit, does that feel amazing).
I realized this the other day during my 2nd belly dancing lesson, instructed by the wonderful Shadia. The first one was during my first (maybe second) week, and it felt so awkward. I was convinced I wasn’t doing it right and didn’t feel comfortable “free dancing” with Shadia. This past time, there were only 4 of us doing it and we were all free dancing and possibly looking like total fools but we did it and we didn’t think about it and it was fun. Those of you who know me well will realize that is not exactly characteristic of me.
I’m afraid that I’m going to go home and get sucked back into the stream of things and turn back into the unfulfilled half-awake person that I was. I realized after I started doing it that I’ve been scrambling to think of things I can do when I get home to keep this from happening. I researched volunteer opportunities in Lakewood. I’ve looked up yoga studios’ costs and schedules, I’ve found belly dancing lessons in Wooster. I realized how fucking sick I am of doing essentially nothing at home. I was bored out of my mind and knew it and didn’t know what to do about it and here I feel better and now it’s about to go away and I’m not sure how to handle it and not sure what to do about it and not sure how many people I’m going to offend when I come back with this attitude.
And I’m scared.